


Thin Skins.

by springburn



Series: Random musings from The Capaldi character file. [27]
Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Attempted Suicide, Canonical Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Eating Disorder, F/M, Falling In Love, Finding Love, Friendship/Love, Gen, Horny Teenagers, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Peter Capaldi character file, Starting Over, Teen Angst, mature relationship, reference to abortion, some drug taking, some sex scenes, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-02-26 05:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 77,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13229436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: Sid Jenkins has an awful lot on his mind. Not the least of which is his Dad!





	1. Sid.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is going to be written in Episodes. Like the TV series. They are therefore longer than traditional chapters.  
> I anticipate there will be about 10 episodes.  
> Like the show, each one will focus mainly on one character. Each episode is almost a story within itself. 
> 
> I MUST ADD THAT EVERY CHAPTER FEATURES MARK AND/OR SID JENKINS. 
> 
> Throughout, I have tried to stay as close to the programme as possible. The only major divergence is that Mark Jenkins doesn't die. 
> 
> When I watched Skins, when it was first aired, I always thought it was a bit of a bleak show. The youngsters seemed hell bent on destruction and the parents were almost more of a mess than their offspring. To me it seemed a very exaggerated view of real life. Too many extremes. Although I suppose that makes for good telly. 
> 
> I haven't forgotten one bit how I felt as a teenager.  
> Like the characters I was confused, desperately trying to fit in, whilst still attempting to find my own self. Experimenting. Falling in love. Etc.  
> So I guess that does ring true. And I realise that, in today's world (or in the world of 2008) the pressures are different. They are no less powerful, but they are different. 
> 
> So,that being said, I've taken as much as I can glean from the characterisations I'm given. I've created back stories, and background, whilst still attempting to retain the essence of what we know from the script. 
> 
> The OC female character is entirely of my own devising. She does not reflect any particular actress or person. I've made her from the North East for no other reason than that it suited my whimsy. 'Pet' is a Geordie term not just of endearment but covers everything and everybody. Everyone can be 'pet', both relatives, friends and strangers alike. 
> 
> This is essentially a love story. 
> 
> Mark is a sad soul. He needs love. 
> 
> So.....I hope you enjoy the episodes and, as usual I welcome your comments and encouragement.

EPISODE ONE.  
SID. 

Sid Jenkins opened his eyes. 

He'd been woken, not by his alarm clock but by the sound of the milk float rattling down the street. 

Milk.

Sid's staple diet. 

Listening to the chink of the bottles as they were placed on next doors step. The guy was whistling for fucks sake.....how can you be that happy at this time of day?

At that moment the alarm sounded. 

Batman. 

_"Dinna Dinna Dinna Dinna Dinna Dinna Dinna Dinna Batman....."_

Reaching out a hand he tried to silence it, but instead succeeded in swiping it from the bedside table onto the floor. 

_"Dinna Dinna Dinna diiinnnnaaa Battttmannnnnnnnnnnnnn...."_

It growled and distorted, fading into a sort of constipated squeak. 

"Fuck!" He groaned. 

His cock was hard. 

"For fuck's sake....." Raising the duvet, looking down at it.....standing up, proud there.....in all its morning glory. 

Closing his fingers around it, he stroked gently, his eyes fluttering shut. 

"Michelle......" He whispered to himself. Then, his eyes popped open again......

"FUCK! I mean..... _Cassie_......" He murmured, filled with instant contrition. 

Fucking Michelle, she'd done his head in. Ruined him for good and all. He was convinced of it. 

It wasn't his fault he'd loved her for so long.....nor that she had such great tits. Tits to be admired. Cupped and fondled. 

_'Nips.'_

That was Tony's nickname for her. 

Cassie didn't have much in the breast department, but didn't the fact that he thought that make him shallow? 

Probably. 

Since he'd shagged Michelle on the beach, he'd thought, pretty much, of nothing else......then, later she'd confided in him........ he'd made her come.  
Something Tony had never done......fucking hell......he was a fucking stud.....a sex God.......

......but he loved Cassie.......fragile, beautiful, fucking mental Cassie.......didn't he?

He loved......he loved........

......hand a blur now as he wanked himself stupid.......

"SID!! SIDNEY!!!! FUCKING GET UP! IT'S TIME FOR COLLEGE....." 

Dad's voice yelled up the stairs. 

Sid's breathing hitched, head back, mouth open......

"SHIT!" 

He'd been that close.......

"SID!!! YOU AWAKE?" 

Louder now, and more intrusive, causing an almost instant member deflation. 

"FUCK! Yes..... _I'm awake_.......shut up for Christ's sake......" 

oOo

Glasses on. 

Ah.....now he could see.......

His attic bedroom was a tip. 

Dirty clothes. Magazines. Pizza boxes. Empty drinks cans. Other unnamed and unrecognisable detritus. 

Picking his way through the mess, hunting in his wardrobe for a T shirt that was clean. 

There wasn't one. 

Okay, so the floor, and a T shirt that smelled the least of B.O......

Picking up several, Sid proceeded to perform the _'whiff test'._  
A couple were instantly discarded, as the odour hit his nostrils powerfully. These were summarily tossed aside.  
One was a possible.  
Then, he found his bright canary yellow......with 'mega-dog' on the front.....

.....he breathed in, long and hard......yep.....this one would do. 

A spray of deodorant under each armpit. 

Boxers.....

"Please tell me there's clean boxers....." opening the drawer, "......yes!" His last pair. 

A quick spray down his pants for luck. 

Fuck, but he wished his mum would come home. 

Jeans.....no socks......trainers......a woolly hat, completed the look. A brief glance in the mirror. 

"Oh God, Sid......what do you fucking look like?"

Last but not least, picking up his folders and pencil case, stuffing them into a shoulder bag. 

Sorted. 

Heading downstairs. 

oOo

The sight that met Sid's eyes as he entered the living room made him stop in his tracks. 

His father. 

Mark. 

Seated in the armchair with a fag burning between his fingers. 

Unshaven, dishevelled. In a T Shirt and boxers. 

Christ! 

He'd aged ten years in a month. 

Mark didn't look up as his son walked through to the kitchen.  
Staring at the opposite wall, seemingly far away. 

The whole place was a shit hole. 

Newspapers strewn around. Dirty cups and glasses. A full ashtray on every arm of every chair. The smell of cigarettes all encompassing. 

In the kitchen there wasn't a space anywhere. Not an inch of uncluttered worktop.  
The sink was full of dishes, food dried on and mildewy. Foil takeaway cartons with the remnants of curry. More pizza boxes. 

Some growing their own fur. 

There was an all pervading, unidentifiable smell of putrefaction. 

Sid wrinkled his nose. 

Opening the fridge he sniffed the milk. It was tainted. 

But he lifted the bottle to his lips and drank some anyway. Wiping the white moustache from his top lip with the back of his hand. Swallowing with a grimace. 

Everywhere on the floor there were crumbs, crunching underfoot, lager cans, a puddle of split tea, a splodge of ketchup.  
A bag containing some sliced Hovis sat on the side, mouldy. 

His father seemed oblivious to it all. 

Detached and alone. Surrounded by the shite that had become his life. 

"You going into work today Dad?" 

A pair of pale dewy eyes lifted, looking up at him, as if he were speaking in a foreign language. 

"Aye." He replied hoarsely. Taking a hefty lug on his fag. The end glowed brightly for a second, as he sucked in and then blew back the smoke in a long foggy trail. 

A month since their mother had been gone.....

They lived like pigs. 

Sid surveyed the house he'd once thought of as homely once again. 

How he hated living here now. 

Turning with a sigh, he almost tripped over the partially dismantled Dyson. 

"What the fuck happened to this?" 

Bending, he picked up the snaking tube, which had somehow detached itself from the main machine. 

"Fuck knows!" His dad replied. "I've tried to put it back on.....can't......fuck it......that hoover hates me." 

Sidney Jenkins was angry suddenly. 

The brief moment of glory when his father actually stood up for himself against his own nasty, brutish bully of a Dad and twat of an uncle were in the dim and distant.....but Sid had been so proud of him, a momentary flash of a man he now didn't even recognise.  
Finally showing some gumption. 

_Now look at him!_

A fucking wreck. 

"How long are you gonna be like this?" He demanded, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

"Eh?"

"How long are you gonna be a sad pathetic fucker......how long are you gonna wallow in _FUCKING_ self pity?"

Mark's eyes blazed. Hardening and becoming fierce. 

"Don't fucking talk to me like that. I'm your father. Show some damn respect!" 

Sid burst into a paroxysm of ironic laughter. 

" _RESPECT?_ Me, respect _you?_ Don't make me laugh...... _JESUS! LOOK AT YOURSELF!!_ "

The man sat, his fingers clutching the armrests of the chair. The cigarette between his fingers trembled, as his hand shook. The ash falling and landing on the carpet beneath. 

"You don't understand......your mother......she was......." He began, his voice almost breaking. 

Sid lost it. 

_"I DON'T UNDERSTAND?_ What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not sodding three, Dad.  
She's my mum too you know! I need her an'all......but she's not here, so I've gotta get on with it. You miss her......I get that......but she's fucked off with Manfred fucking Mann......she's not coming back......so what are you going to do? Eh?  
Sit there and smoke and drink yourself into oblivion, while everything crumbles around you? Or get off your fucking arse and _DO_ something.....?"

A single tear coursed down his father's cheek.  
Sid watched it.  
Fascinated.  
He'd never seen his Dad cry before. Not like this anyway. 

It was disturbing. 

He didn't want to see it. 

What he wanted to see was strength, determination. But there was none of that.  
Just despair. Misery. Hopelessness. 

"One day, when you're older, you'll understand about relationships, about the blows life deals you.....how tough it can be......." 

The anger Sid Jenkins already felt, boiled. It rose, bubbling up inside him like a raging inferno. 

He erupted with the ferocity of Vesuvius. So vehement that his parent stood up, and they faced each other. Toe to toe.  
Mark was taller and meatier than his son, but it was the younger man who seemed to tower over the elder.  
A pointing finger aimed at the sternum.  
Prodding to emphasis his words.  
Each poke calculated to be a stab in the heart. 

_"YOU ARE SUCH A PATHETIC TOSSER!_ You know that?  
Speaking to me about life! Jesus Christ! My best friend was hit by a sodding bus for fucks sake! Suffered a blood clot on the brain. Has had to relearn everything! _EVERYTHING!_ From how to speak to how to piss......before that, his sister Effy ended up in hospital from a heroin overdose......" 

He paused for effect. 

".....I was in love with my best friend's girlfriend and I felt _SO FUCKING BAD_ about it that I denied it for months. Even after we were thrown together.....it was a mistake.....a massive guilt trip.....because Tony doesn't even remember properly.....and I was cheating on Cass, and that made me feel like _UTTER SHIT_...." 

Sid began to pace. Up and down in front of his astonished father. 

"......when I realised it was Cassie I really liked......and we got together.....I thought it'd be great, but she's a fucking mess Dad.....fucked up......she's been in clinics, and therapy and God knows what......because, well......I'll give you an example......" his voice took on a sing-song tone as he mimicked the conversation.  
"..... _.hey Sid, let's go on a date....' 'I can't tonight Cass, I'm busy...' 'oh, that's really a shame because I haven't eaten for three days, so I'd be lovely......' FUCK!_ " 

"Christ, son......I didn't kn......" 

"You didn't know? _OF COURSE YOU DIDN'T KNOW!_ Because I'm not likely to confide in you am I? Man to fucking man. Because you're not really a parent are you? You're just a sad fucking git.....who's wife has left him.....so now you don't fucking care about _ANYTHING_ anymore.....except wallowing in your own self pity.....and that's only the half of what I could tell _YOU_ about life......take Chris for instance.......who's little brother Peter died aged nine.....and now both his mum and his dad have fucked off because they just couldn't get over the grief, and he's completely alone.....he's seventeen for crying out loud......and he's living in a poxy room in college.......or what about Maxxie.......who regularly gets beaten up by those arseholes who hang around the town centre......just because he's GAY......how fucked up is that?" 

The son watched as his parent seemed to deflate before his eyes. Diminishing, hunching over, almost as if he were melting. 

"I'm sorry son......." 

"Don't insult me by saying I don't know about life, Dad." Sid's voice grew softer now. " I might be young, but it's all around me. Everywhere. All my friends. I'm just trying to navigate my way through this heap of shit, that regularly rains down on me from above, trying to make sense of it all.....AND do my fucking coursework at the same time.......I'm not a little kid, Dad.  
I've grown up while you weren't fucking looking......" 

Father and son, standing, almost chest to chest. The fiery rage gone. Sid's eyes softened behind his spectacles.Those of his parent, moist with tears.  
A new respect perhaps, mingled with a deep regret and sadness. 

"......listen Dad, I've gotta go. I said I'll meet Cass, and I'm late.......there's no food in the house by the way......nothing. But if you give me some money I'll go to Tesco's on my way home this afternoon....." 

Silence.

Reaching into a pocket that didn't exist in his boxer shorts. 

Fumbling down the sides of his bare thighs, realising he wasn't even wearing trousers. 

"My wallet......" He mumbled. "It's in my......." 

A hand, resting gently on his forearm. 

"It's okay Dad....I'll get it......twenty quid, yeah? 

"Yeah." 

"I'll drop back with the shopping later." 

"You in tonight?" His parent shuffled backwards slightly, combing his fingers distractedly through his mop of thick hair.

"Dunno. Probably not. Don't wait up." 

"No. Right. Take care though......won't you? You know.....don't do anything daft....."

Sid smiled. 

"I'll try not to Dad. Have a good day at work yeah?"

Now Mark smiled, nervously. 

"Course! Barrel of laughs..... _.'Strategic Analyst_ '.....that's me.....my father always took the piss......but I got my Bachelors degree for fucks sake.....worked my arse off....... _cunt!"_

"You did good Dad. Seriously. Look.....I gotta go......." 

Sid toyed with the idea of giving his father a hug. Decided against it. 

Stood awkwardly for a moment or two. Scratching his head atop his woolly hat.  
Backed away......

.....and was gone. 

"Bye Son......" 

The front door slammed. 

Mark Jenkins lowered himself into the armchair.......

........and broke down. 

oOo

There was a hubbub of chatter in the classroom. 

Chris was asleep with his head on the desk. 

Tony and Michelle deep in conversation. Both looking up as Sid entered. 

Michelle gave him a slight, somewhat apologetic, smile. Tony, a look of quiet distain. Their eyes locked for a moment before Sid quailed and looked away.

For fucks sake....why couldn't things just get back to normal? 

All Sid wanted was his best friend back......was it too much to ask?  
The fact he'd shagged said friend's girlfriend whilst he was recovering in hospital from brain injury and his own girlfriend, Cassie, was away ensconced with two gay, kilt wearing Scotsman in Elgin, was quite beside the point. 

It was over now. Done. Finished. 

He'd shown his most heartfelt contrition. Fessed up to his sexual misdemeanours. Done penance at the altar of guilt and purged himself of the desire he once had for one who could never, ultimately, be his. 

Sid sighed, took an empty chair next to Jal, who was busily writing. 

"Alright?" He enquired, cordially. 

"Fine." She replied, without looking up. 

Maxxie and Anwar rushed in, in a flurry, just as the bell sounded. Noisily clattering the seats as they hurried to sit down, trying to look as if they'd been there ages. 

The door opened a second later, to admit a stranger. 

Slim, fair, around thirty five or so. Nicely turned out in skirt and blouse. Quite attractive really. In a neat, rather prim way. 

She stood at the head of the class for a few seconds, her eyes scanning the room. 

No one really took much notice, their conversations continuing unbroken. 

Then, placing some folders on the desk beside her, she coughed slightly. Clearing her throat. 

"Good morning class." She said, clearly, in a Newcastle twang. Tucking her hair behind one ear. 

Chris woke up with a start, staring blearily at her. 

"Who the fucks she?" He asked, voicing what they were all thinking, but couldn't be bothered to enquire. 

"I'm your new Psychology teacher......Ms Driscoll........" the young woman began. 

"Where's Angie?" Chris interrupted, before she could continue. 

"I have no idea, pet.....all I know is, she's left, and I'm taking her place......now......shall we get started?" 

Chris's face blanched. 

oOo

Music throbbed.

The pulse of it strong enough to vibrate your breastbone. 

Sid knew that Tony struggled in these clubs. 

The noise and the lights sometimes distressed him. 

Carving a path through the heaving crowd they made their way to the bar.  
Normally once they had a drink he'd go and find somewhere a little less intense. Not tonight.  
Sid could see Chris on the dance floor already, off his face, twirling round and round with his eyes closed. Allowing the beat of the music to flow through his body, from the soles of his shoes, into every sinew, every fibre.  
Gone. 

Bodies gyrating, rising and falling together, bathed in flashing coloured lights. 

The place was heaving. 

A smell of weed pervading the air. You could get high just breathing in. 

Michelle moved into the centre, dancing next to Tony, her arms wrapped around his neck. 

Sid watched. Mesmerised. 

They seemed to fit together somehow. Perfectly matched. 

A nudge at his elbow bought him back down to Earth. 

Cassie. 

"Wow! Hi Sidney!"

She was dressed in a floaty top, a sparkly slide in her blonde hair. Looking like a delicate flower. So different in every way from Michelle.  
She was tough, resilient and confident. Cass, on the other hand, was vulnerable, like a reed in the wind. The slightest puff might break her. 

Her eyes were watching Michelle too. The look of annoyance barely contained. 

"You want a drink?" Sid yelled, over the roar of the music, making a cup sign with one hand at the same time. 

With a shake of the head she seemed to come back into the room, grabbing Sid she latched her lips firmly to his, snogging him until he thought he'd pass out.  
It was for Michelle's benefit probably, but Sid wasn't complaining. 

He closed his eyes, sank into the ferocious kiss. 

Let it all melt away. 

All the shit. 

When he opened them, Michelle was gone, Tony following her as she pushed her way through the crowd, heading towards the door. 

Fucking hell!

Cassie couldn't help but see the despair in his face as he watched them go. 

The thump she gave his arm, hurt.

"Fuck you Sid!" 

Before he could say or do anything, she was walking briskly away from him. Forcing herself through the press of dancers, blonde hair flying. 

"CASSIE!" 

There was nothing he could do but go after her. 

She hadn't gone far. Sitting on the brick wall outside. Lighting up a spliff.  
Taking a long drag, then blowing out the smoke.  
"I shouldn't smoke this.....it makes you hungry." She remarked idly.  
He sat down beside her.  
Silent. 

She took another lug, sucking her breath in, then letting her eyes fall shut as the warmth spread through her. 

"Cass......I'm sorry.......have I fucked up again?"

"Yes. Yes Sid, you have." She replied airily. Passing the joint to him, between finger and thumb.

"I always fuck up.....its my talent.....it's what I do......" Puffing gently a couple of times, he handed it back. 

"......Tony has been my friend since nursery school Cass, I miss him.....he's always been there, but most of our past he doesn't even remember.....I don't know if that'll ever come back, nor does he......it's uncomfortable, it's difficult."

"You still fancy Michelle." She stated bluntly. 

Sid rolled his eyes and tutted. 

"Cass, I don't. I've got that out of my system....I know you don't believe me. It was a bad time for me okay?  
She was there. We fucked. I'm _sorry_. I don't know what else you want me to say." 

"I'd like you to say you think about me sometimes.....I don't need you to tell me you love me....because I know you don't.....but it would nice to know you think about me sometimes, and that you care....even if it's just a bit......"

Leaning his head back, Sid looked skywards. 

"Fucking hell Cassie. Of course I care.....there's just been so much shit lately......Mum leaving, Dad falling apart......Tony......then you going to Scotland.....everything......I'm just trying to keep my head above water."

"Wow, Sid, you are so totally up your own anus! Don't you think we're all trying to do that! I'm trying to get through too. Since I've come back from the clinic I've been really, really trying. Keeping it all together, making sure I eat at least something......every mouthful is torture....but I have to believe it'll get better......because I want it to.....I really do......I just wish I wasn't so fat." 

"Fat? How can you think you're fat? You're beautiful......you're......." 

Chris barrelled out of the doorway at that moment, falling almost at the couple's feet. He was crying. 

Sid gave a groan of frustration.

"Mate? What is it? What's happened?"

His friend looked up at him cross-eyed, trying to focus through his tears. He was stoned. 

"Angie's gone." He blubbed. "Fucked off.......for good.....she loves me you know......I'm sure of it......but they've got a replacement already......so she's not coming back any time soon.....why would she do that? Why?"

Sobbing uncontrollably. Face creased and snotty. 

Sid pulled him to his feet by the armpits. Slung an arm around him to hold him upright. 

"Come on Chris.....let's get you home......"

He looked at Cassie apologetically. 

"Don't worry about me. I'll go home with Jal." 

"You're sure? Listen Cass......we'll continue this conversation another time yeah? There's stuff I want to say.....but now's not the time.......please?"

Chris made ominous retching noises beneath Sid's arm. 

Cassie rolled her eyes. 

"Okay. Okay.......fine! Take him home. I'll see you tomorrow." 

oOo

By the time Sid Jenkins turned the key into his own front door it was very late. Or rather, early.  
Since midnight had come and gone. 

The warm buzz from the reefer was gradually wearing off, leaving behind a feeling of emptiness. 

His feet crunched over uncollected post on the doormat. 

Bending, he retrieved the letters, placing the pile on the hall stand. 

There was a light on in the living room. 

"Dad? You still down here?" He called. 

Entering the lounge, he found his father. 

The rest of the house was in complete darkness. Just this one lamp burning. Curtains still drawn from the morning. 

Slumped where he'd fallen, along the sofa. In T Shirt and boxers again. Bare feet. 

He was deeply asleep, a plastic bin on the carpet beside him, looking as if he'd begun to tidy up, but either passed out or simply couldn't be arsed any more. 

Right hand hanging down, clasped loosely around an empty whiskey tumbler. On the little table adjacent to the sofa sat the bottle, a dreg remaining in the bottom. 

"Fucking hell!" Sid puffed out his cheeks. 

A loud snort reverberated as Mark suddenly awoke. Raising his head. Smacking his lips. The eyes like liquid pools, gummed together. A string of drool coming from his mouth. 

"Eh? Wha'sup......?" Voice thick and syrupy. Wiping his face. 

It was as if his head were too heavy for his body. Barely able to lift it. 

"Dad. What the fuck are you doing? It's one in the morning......"

"You'rrreee late.....ish a school night....." He slurred, the rolled Scottish R's racked up to their highest level. 

"What do you care?"

"Whereav ye bin?" Running his large hands through his thick hair, his father then rubbed his eyes, shaking his head as if it might bring him clarity.

"Out."

Trying unsuccessfully to stand. A limp, uncoordinated rag. 

What a pathetic sight! 

"C'mere.....let's get you upstairs....." 

Sid made to take his Dad by the arm in order to steady him, but the outstretched hand was brushed angrily away. 

"I _canfookin'_ manage...." 

At which he promptly swayed on his feet, and would have gone down, had his son not caught him. 

"Come on Dad. Please. Let me help."

Slinging his parent's arm around his own neck, the two slowly made their way across the hall and up the stairs.  
One at a time.  
It was hard work. 

Mark was a big man, tall....not hefty, but a dead weight. 

Reaching the bathroom door.....

"I need te piss....." He announced. 

"Well on you go then.....I'm not fucking helping you do that....." 

Clinging to the doorframe, the drunken man lurched inside. One hand flat against the wall behind the toilet, to keep himself steady, the other fumbling inside his pants for his dick. 

Letting out a long sigh of relief as the urine began to flow.  
His son waiting patiently behind, rolling his eyes, listening to the tinkle, as his father finished, shook himself off and tucked it back into his boxers. 

Turning, he almost toppled backwards, but the bowl of the lavatory pan at the backs of his legs stopped him. Reaching out his hand to clutch the one Sid offered. 

"Thanks son....." 

Once in the bedroom he proceeded to half fall, half launch himself onto the divan, on his front, face down into the pillow.  
Landing more or less central, but on top of the covers. Feet dangling over the edge. 

Sid's patience was exhausted. 

"You're such a fucking twat." He hissed. 

Unceremoniously hauling his dad's feet onto the mattress, flinging the bit of duvet which wasn't underneath him, over his body to cover him, Sid left him to it.  
Snores rang out before he even reached the door. 

"Night dad!" 

Stumping up the stairs to his own room, an attic conversion, he shut his door firmly behind him. 

"What a fucking day!" He breathed. 

Stripping off. Laying down. Looking down at himself. His cock was hard again. 

No doubt because of the spliff. He sighed. 

"For crying out loud....I wake in the morning with a stiffy.....and go to bed with one too.....what's that all about....?"

This time, as his hand closed around it however, he knew there would be no interruptions!!


	2. Mark.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark Jenkins is busy falling apart.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses on Mark. 
> 
> Taken from what we see and know of him from the actual script I've fashioned a chapter about his thoughts and feelings, how similar his postition is to that of his own son. He, in missing his wife, Sid, in losing his best friend.  
> How he's coping, or rather, not coping with Liz leaving him, and his relationship and lack of communication with Sid. 
> 
> He's in a bit of a sorry state, and at the moment, can't see a way out of it.

EPISODE TWO.  
MARK. 

7am.......

Mark Jenkins used to like mornings. 

"You're such a morning person Mark....." people had told him. 

Up early. Wide awake. Ready for the day. 

Even as a young man. 

Strong work ethic, the working class boy who compounded all expectation by going to university. His brother Sandy was, in comparison, an ape. 

Sandy Jenkins. 

Never could there be two brothers who were more polar opposites. 

Into the armed forces. Making his military minded father so very proud, it was a power thing.  
The strong comradeship of the Army suited him.  
Always the favourite son, although Mark didn't particularly mind that. 

Praised if he got into a punch up.  
His side always the one taken in a sibling dispute. An inveterate liar and a sneak, who would run to daddy or mummy and tell tales of misdemeanours to earn Mark a belting. 

Just as his own two ginger terrorist bairns, Lexy and Ally, did now. 

Delighted in the suffering he caused. 

It was always Sandy's way or the highway. Right from early childhood.  
A childhood which was marred by fear.  
Terrified of his brutish father, Alex, and his elder brother who took after him. Demanding respect, and if he didn't get it, would dole out a beating.  
His father won the love of his second son by instilling in him a sense of duty, familial loyalty and reward. The reward being that Mark escaped a thrashing by bowing the knee of total submission and ritual humiliation.

Mark quickly learned to keep his head down and his mouth shut. 

Too young to understand exactly what the fuck it was he'd done wrong. 

A gangly, shy, awkward boy. Lacking in confidence. He would hide rather than fight. Stoically bearing the taunts of others. Only when alone would he perhaps allow himself the luxury of tears. 

He was never a 'joiner', or a member of any gang or club or group.  
Quiet really.  
A loner. 

But, much to his family's consternation it turned out that Mark was academic.  
Good at school. Bright.  
Clever. 

Regularly bullied there too.  
For being a swot. A geek. Not sporty. 

His cleverness, however, earned him a scholarship and he couldn't bloody wait to get away. 

Finally, he was free from the constant belittling. The climate of fear he'd learned to survive in. He knew nothing else. 

At university he was allowed to express himself at last. 

He excelled. 

He met Liz there.

He fell in love with Liz. 

Eventually he married her. 

At nineteen she was his first ever sexual encounter. 

The only girl he'd ever been with, both then and now. 

Liz was clever too, but she was also a homemaker. She worked, but she took on the traditional role of housekeeper too.  
It wasn't something they'd ever discussed. It was just the way it happened. 

Then Sid was born. 

Mark was so determined that his son would not be afraid of him, as he'd been of his own father.  
He would not repeat the mistakes of his parent.  
Sid would be loved, encouraged, nurtured. 

Somewhere along the way, those ideals became blurred and lost. 

As Mark grew older he felt more and more detached from his boy. It seemed to him that it was always his mother the child preferred. Somehow he was on the periphery. Left out. 

Each morning he would get up, go to his job as a Strategic Analyst at Winslow and Harrison, implementing business solutions, developing software for resources allocation, projects and management.  
In the evening he would return home in his red mini, his tea would be ready, his son at the table doing his homework.  
Life was good.  
He was damn good at his job.  
Did his best. Worked hard. Brought home the bacon.  
It gave him and his little family a reasonable, comfortable life. 

_Where the fuck did it all go wrong?_

The same doubts and insecurities hit him now as did when he was a boy. No different. 

Yet now he was forty-four. 

Married for twenty years. 

Never so much as looked at another woman......

......now he felt little different to when he was ten years old. 

Isolated. 

Mark yawned and turned over in bed. Closing his eyes against the sight of the empty pillow next to him.  
Waking each morning in his double divan, alone, was something he just couldn't get used to. 

Hated it. 

Compounding his loneliness. 

He'd tried so hard to banish all these thoughts from his head. 

But he couldn't. Not without copious amounts of Scotch anyway. 

Because he couldn't make sense of it all. 

The booze, if he drank enough, would numb him. He could sleep then. 

What did he do wrong for fucks sake? 

Was he unreasonable? Mean? Boring? Was he unkind or miserable? 

Had he changed SO much from the man she married? 

He didn't really know because she'd never fucking told him, and he hadn't seen. 

During the last month he'd examined himself over and over. Exhaustively. 

Asked himself these serious questions. 

What was the cause of the distance between himself, and Liz and Sid......the yawning chasm which seemed to separate him from them. 

The black hole which had sucked his son away from him, turning him from a happy engaging little boy, to a diffident, angry and confused young man with whom he couldn't even communicate.  
Or was that normal teenager stuff? 

A cavernous abyss into which his wife had also fallen.  
Drawing her towards German work colleague and sex God, Manfred.  
A fierce and overbearing man, who dominated her in every way......which she seemed to like, but which couldn't be further from how Mark was........but apparently he had a massive cock.....and was good at giving oral.......so that compensated for any lack of other niceties....

It had to be him. His fault. 

He didn't do stuff around the house. The washing machine and he were strangers. He didn't cook either.  
Wasn't there for them both when they needed emotional support.  
Too cold and distant. 

Clearly he didn't have enough to satisfy in the fucking trouser department either!

Generally he failed miserably at being demonstrative, not sufficiently touchy feely, not comforting or good at picking up on moods.  
Rarely romantic......his idea of wooing had always been flowers, or a nice dinner.....not that he'd done that lately it was true.....  
.....Manfred's was making her kneel at his feet naked.......or tying her to the fucking bedpost.....

So was it the excitement she craved that she didn't get at home with him? Or was this a new thing she'd lately discovered? Was it Liz that had changed, leaving him behind? 

Their relationship had become staid and cold.  
Same-y.  
Each day much like any other. Dull in the extreme. 

Work, eat, sleep. 

Their son was growing up, finding his feet, exploring new sensations.  
Mark didn't understand him. Didn't try hard enough to do so. Their worlds drawing further and further apart. 

Sid's words to him the day before, stung. 

Hurt him more than he could possibly say. 

Because the things he said were the very things Mark always sought to avoid, the things which had separated him from his own father. 

It was true that Sid was not afraid of him, as he had been of his bullying dad, but that was because he saw him as weak and pathetic. 

A cretin. Sid called him. 

What a mess he'd made of everything. 

Fucked up. 

It was what he did. 

Apparently.

Mark sat up. Suddenly the eureka moment. 

The day he and Liz went into school. How had he reacted? 

He'd ranted. Belittled. Made Sid feel two inches tall. He hadn't stuck up for him, encouraged him, given him advice.....been rational.  
Instead he'd flown off the handle.  
Caused his own wife to side with the boy.... _against him_. 

Then he'd shouted some more, flounced off in a huff.  
Made Sid feel like a disappointment.  
His punishment was to ground him. Cut him off from his telly......his stuff......and his friends. 

In short made him feel like shit. 

Just as _HIS_ father had done to him. 

Jesus Christ! 

He'd done that, the one thing he'd sworn never to do. 

Turned into his own father.....and turned his son into _HIM._

What was it Sid had said that day? 

_"I fucked up. I always fuck up.......it's what I do....._ " 

How many other occasions had Sid said that to people, he wondered? 

Mark ran his fingers through his hair distractedly. His emotions were so awry that he felt close to bursting point.  
Mixed with the inevitable hangover from the Scotch the night before. 

Shit! He didn't even remember how he got to bed. 

oOo

His face in the shaving mirror looked haggard. Grey and old. 

But he ignored it. 

Standing in the shower. His hands resting flat on the cold tiles of the back wall. Letting the water pound down onto him. 

A ritual baptism. 

Yet he didn't seem clean somehow. Soiled in some way. Forever. 

Tainted. 

A failure. 

As a husband, as a father. 

His depression now after his morning thoughts, was profound. 

At the moment he could see no way out of the downward spiral he was in. Couldn't slip much lower. 

Barely holding it together. 

He just missed Liz so fucking much. It was like having his own right arm cut off. She'd been an integral part of him for so long.  
He hardly remembered a time when she wasn't there. 

Just _THERE_. A comforting and secure presence. Which had been cruelly ripped away. 

Switching off the tap he towelled himself off and dressed. 

Donning a shirt he'd last worn two days ago. 

He needed to do some laundry, urgently. Afraid to admit he didn't know how to work the machine. 

Downstairs he found Sid had bought cornflakes and milk at least. 

He made himself a mug of tea. 

Sliding the dirty crocks to one side to make enough space to sit at the table. 

He was eating thoughtfully when Sid appeared. 

"You alright Dad?"

Mark didn't look up. 

"Yeah." 

"Got a headache?"

Their eyes finally met.

"A bit.....why?"

"Because you were off your fucking trolley.....I had to help you upstairs at one this morning.....wait while you pissed for fucks sake....above and beyond Dad...... _above and beyond_."

Sid saw his father swallow as if he had a golf ball in his throat.

"Fuck! Sorry son.......I really am......how was your night?"

"Shit actually.....Cassie is in a huff with me because she thought I was looking at Michelle.... _in that way_......" he made speech marks with his fingers to emphasise.  
"....I wasn't.....I was looking at her and Tony together.....and I was wishing......well, never mind.....then I was trying to talk to Cass......to explain.....but Chris was totally arseholed and was sick everywhere so I had to take him home....apart from that, it was fucking fantastic."

"I'm so sorry, Sid......"

His son helped himself to a bowl of cereal and sat down opposite his wreck of a Dad. 

"You and Tony.....you'll work it o........" 

"I just fucking miss him Dad." Sid interrupted. "So much. He's been my best mate forever.....I hardly remember a time when he wasn't there.  
I know he could be a manipulative bastard, a total arse sometimes, but we had fun, I feel like that's gone, because there are great gaps of memory for him. Things he doesn't recall. I feel like I've had my right arm cut off.....y'know?"

Mark's eyes opened wide at Sid's words. The very echo of his own. 

"Yes. I do know son. I know _exactly_ how you feel. It sucks......." 

Sid paused, his spoon midway between bowl and mouth. 

".......you feel completely empty. Like part of you is missing. You turn round to say something to him, and he's not there. You wake up suddenly in the night, with something that you're burning to share, and there's no one. Sometimes, you see something you know he'd like, or enjoy, and you want to say it. But you can't.  
Because he'll have forgotten.  
You see him in every corner, every shop window, at the bus stop, in the park, you think about him all the time.....eating your dinner, in the shower, at w....school......and it's a physical pain in your chest. An ache of loneliness that you can't assuage and you can't quantify.....it's just there......constantly." 

The sound of the spoon falling into the cornflakes with a splat, the chair scraping as it was pushed hurriedly back.  
Sid moving around the table. His arms wrapping around his father's neck. Holding on tight. 

Awkwardly leaning forwards over him. 

Specs pushed into his cheek. Crushingly close. 

For a moment his parent remained rigid. Then, with a convulsive gasp of air, he clung to his boy in return. Reaching up from his seat at the table. Head coming to rest on his son's narrow shoulder. 

Sid Jenkins could feel his father shaking. Hair tickling his cheek as his head moved with each sob, along with his shoulders. The tremble ran right through him.  
A hand was rubbing his back gently. It felt good. 

"It's okay Dad.......it's okay......."

"I'm so sorry son.......I'm so sorry......I fucked up bad this time.......I don't know what to do.....how to make it right......."

The wetness seeped into his T Shirt. Tears of anguish. Heartfelt. 

"You didn't fuck up, it's just that shit happens.......we've just gotta get through it somehow......mum's gone Dad, she's not coming back......she's happy......we'll just have to make the best of it.......muddle through....." 

"But it's my fault your mum went......because I'm an idiot......a cretin, you called me, and you were right. I got what I deserved. My dad was right too.....I always was a failure....." 

Pulling away, Sid held his Dad at arms length. 

"You're not a failure! Any more than I am....although I constantly say it. Mum's just as much at fault as you are.....she could have spoken to you, addressed any problems she felt you had, instead of just fucking off....and fucking Manfred.....it can't all be you Dad.....it takes two to fuck up a marriage."

Mark wiped under his runny nose with the back of his hand. Sniffing loudly. 

"You gotta pull yourself together Dad, you can't let this destroy you......I need you.....more than ever right now. You've gotta try.......you've just _got_ to......"

Nodding. His eyes spilling over still. Elbows resting on the table. Head in hands. Fingers pressed into the sockets in an attempt to quell the flow. Struggling for control. 

"I don't feel I can talk to you Dad. Not like this......but I need to. And you need to talk to me......tell me what's going on in your head......I'm not a child anymore. I understand more than you give me credit for. There's so much shit going on in my head too, and I can't make sense of it......you must remember what it was like. You've been there.  
You _HAVE_ to do this for me Dad, you HAVE TO. You have to be there for me......there's no one else.....I'm relying on you.....okay?"

The dewy red rimmed eyes looked up at him, such sorrow there. Such pain. 

"Yeah." He stated, simply. "Yeah. Okay."

"You'll be late for work." Sid stepped back. Feeling awkward now, embarrassed. 

Mark took a final loud sniff.

Lifting his shoulders, taking a deep breath in, then releasing it slowly, dropping them again. 

Steeling himself. 

"I will try Sid. I promise. I promise.....okay? I always wanted to give you my best....."

"Okay. Thanks Dad.....oh, and by the way.....your shirt smells of B.O......"

"So does yours...."

Sid sniffed his own armpits and grimaced. 

"Fuck!" He turned away, meaning to run up to his bedroom to find a less stinky one. 

"Sid?" His dad called as he reached the living room door. 

"What is it?"

"Do you know how to work the fucking washing machine....?"

oOo

The canteen at Winslow and Harrison was quiet. 

Mark sat alone at a table in the corner. 

A plate of pie, chips and beans in front of him. 

Christ, if he kept eating this shit he'd turn into a Michelin man, or die of furred arteries....which ever happened the quickest. 

Not that he really knew much about health and nutrition. He just ate whatever Liz put in front of him.  
It was usually very good, she was a great cook.  
He loved her roast dinners best of all. 

The chips were soggy, swimming in grease. Pie crust grey and bland, the innards unidentifiable but advertised bravely as chicken and mushroom. 

This musing sparked more thoughts of Liz. 

Into his mind came the disturbing vision of his wife outside their house, in the car.....with Manfred. 

His horror, as, with Sid beside him.....they watched the pair of them from the living room window. 

What the sight had done to him was something so exquisitely painful, he could never begin to describe it, so how seeing his mother _'in flagrante'_ like that had affected Sid, was impossible to even contemplate. 

Wincing at the acutely distressing memory. 

The pair kissing frantically, fumbling.....his hands inside her blouse, squeezing her tits......then looking on with almost morbid fascination as he saw Manfred stick his fingers down inside her knickers.....his wife.....right there in the car....parked in the busy street......he chiefly remembered the glazed look on her face.....one of sheer lust and desire.....panting at the intimate touch.....unable to control herself. 

Mark shook his head in an effort to banish the harrowing thoughts. He felt sick. 

Pushing his plate away. 

She _had_ changed. 

She had. 

Such wild abandon. 

He remembered a time, admittedly a while ago now, when he'd started kissing her in the park.....had made to touch her......and she'd gone ballistic.  
"Mark! Not here! It's a public place....don't be so disgusting......"

There'd been no one around, not even a dog walker. 

The little frisson of excitement that it gave him immediately evaporated.  
It wasn't embarrassment...  
She didn't want him. Summarily spurned.  
A couple of times, more recently, it happened in bed too.....he'd felt randy......rolled over to cuddle her, but she pushed him away. 

So it was him then.  
She just simply didn't fancy him. Not anymore. 

No such qualms with fucking Manfred.....

Right there.....in full view......breathless and frotting.....and.....and......enjoying every fucking moment. 

"FUCK!"

The people who were now sitting at the next table, paused in their conversation, looking up sharply. 

Shit....had he said that out loud? 

He had. 

Mark Jenkins' colleagues knew he was going through some kind of major crisis.  
It was pretty obvious. 

His appearance. Demeanour. His attitude. 

To a man (or woman) they all felt rather sorry for him. Covered for him if he was a little late, tried to be kind.  
They'd probably guessed what had happened. 

Classic.....

Wife leaves husband.....husband can't cope......falls apart......

Their pity was genuine enough, but there was no way Mark would confide in any of them. Or ask for help.....  
He just wasn't that type of man. 

Eventually, he reasoned, they'd give up. Give him a wide berth. Leave him to his misery.  
Talk about him quietly behind their hands. 

" _Miserable, lonely fucker......I used to feel sorry for him......but, honestly....he's brought it on himself.....look at him......he needs a good kick up the arse....."_

Scraping the remaining lunch into the waste food bin, Mark ditched his plate and cutlery, returning to the counter to fetch himself a mug of tea.  
The workmates on the adjacent table were still watching him closely. 

He returned to his seat. 

Glared at them. 

"What the fuck are you all looking at......?" He challenged, eyes blazing.


	3. Liz.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sid is visiting his mother in the house she now shares with Manfred....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses mainly on Sid's mum, Liz. 
> 
> As will be clear as you read, Liz is no more at fault over anything in the relationship as either Mark or Sid himself.  
> She does not exist purely to fulfil the role of a glorified housekeeper. Sid's view of the circumstances of the break up and hers, are somewhat different! 
> 
> The reference to the 'stupid cow' is taken directly from the scene where Mark takes Sid's telly etc from his room then falls down the stairs. We hear him swearing and Liz's voice enquiring as to what happened. Mark's reply is simply to yell at her. It's only his own clumsiness that makes him fall, yet it's her he takes it out on. Mark is most certainly not blameless in this situation! 
> 
> Manfred may not be the right man for her ultimately.....but for the moment.....he is!

EPISODE THREE.  
LIZ. 

Even the fucking doorbell played Wagner! 

The whole place wore the air of the Teutonic. 

A kind of minimalist, open plan affair. Bauhaus style furniture, lots of white.  
Blinds instead of curtains. Parquet floors. Pictures of meaningless coloured splodges on the walls. 

Sid's eyes scanned the rooms, he couldn't imagine anything more different from the home she'd shared with his Dad. 

"Nice." He muttered, as he passed through to the stainless steel, industrial looking kitchen.  
Perched himself on a leather topped stool, waiting whilst his mum put the kettle on. 

There was a photo on the fridge, well there were several, but this one caught his eye.  
Liz, with Manfred draped beside her, she was dressed in an armour type breastplate, a yellow wig in two plaits under a horned helmet. Ride of the fucking Valkyries......  
Fancy dress......at least Sid fervently hoped it was.....because otherwise the alternative conjured an image he'd prefer not to have......

"How are you Sid?" She asked, cutting into these unpleasant thoughts. 

"Do you really want to know, or are you just making polite conversation?" He responded snappily. 

She turned sharply. Giving an eye roll. 

"Did _HE_ tell you to be like this?" Leaning back against the counter, her tone carried an edge of frustration to it. A hint of venom. 

"Yeah....that's right Mum......Dad said, _'when you next see your Mum, be sarcastic with her, try to show her how fucking pissed off you are with her'!_  
No, of course he didn't! And it's pretty much standard that you would think that of him.....and, I have to say.....fucking low too. Below the belt.  
Actually Mum.....I'm being like this because it's how I feel......like you've fucked off....you're happy now, and you don't care a monkey's arse about what's going on with either of us...." 

"That's not true....of course I care....." 

"I mean. What the fuck went wrong Mum? What the hell did Dad do?" 

Her reply was to laugh, almost hysterically. Throwing her head back. 

Sid winced at the sound. Abrasive and bitter as it was. 

"Where do you want me to start?" She jabbed, slamming the cups down onto the counter top. 

"Well, as I'm here....how about you tell me? How about you explain what exactly happened....so I can understand? How about you treat me like an adult, and give me the sordid details......then, maybe, _just maybe_ , I can begin to make sense of why my parents are now separated, what went wrong, and how to avoid similar events in my own shit life!" 

"Your Dad.....he's just.....just......" 

"Just what?" 

"I dunno, we've just grown apart. We've changed."

A frown of consternation swept Sid's face. He suddenly felt very hot. 

"Seems to me like he hasn't changed much, not fundamentally. He's always worked hard. He's always come home. Doesn't have many friends or interests outside of the Firm.......and he loves you....."

"That may be true Sid. But he never says it. Never.....DOES.....anything. There's no excitement, no sensations. To him I'm just a _'stupid cow_ '......or have you conveniently forgotten that? We haven't grown together, as a couple. We've drifted apart. We are just like two old people......and I'm not......  
......old, I mean. My life isn't over yet. There's still stuff I want to do. I did try to talk to him. To explain.  
I have needs....feelings, and your Dad just doesn't get that.  
He's just become boring, bullish, unimaginative.....staid......and I can't stand it any more. I like him, but I don't love him. That's about the size of it." 

Sid slowly digested this information. If he was honest, he saw himself in the way she described her ex husband. He wasn't exciting or interesting either.  
Nor particularly imaginative.....Christ.....he was becoming a clone of his own fucking Dad!  
He swallowed heavily.  
His mother put on her most sympathetic face. 

"How is he?" 

Liz pushed a steaming mug towards him and sat down. 

"Honestly? He's a fucking mess." 

"Drinking?"

"Yeah. Loads. He's lost Mum. He doesn't know what to do without you, and he doesn't know what he did or how to put it right.....he's not coping at all. Can't you come back? Give him another chance?  
He needs you.....he loves you....." 

"No love. I can't. It's over. I'm with Manfred now. He gives me.......what I need. We're happy. I do miss your Dad, I do.....but it's not enough. I'm sorry." 

"What about me.....?" Sid pushed his specs up his nose and looked back at his mother with the most 'little boy lost' expression he could muster.

"You could come here.....live.....there's a spare room......Manfred wouldn't mind.....I've already asked him......you wouldn't be home much anyway.......off to Uni soon no doubt......"

"What.....me leave him too?" Eyes wide with astonishment. "What the fuck! I don't even _believe_ you just said that! It would just totally destroy him! I'm all he's fucking got......don't you get that? Jesus Christ Mum......" 

Hopping down from the stool, slopping his tea onto the pristine worktop, Sid kicked it viciously, his eyes brimming with tears. The anger he'd reserved for his father, now turned on its head, and aimed squarely at his Mum. 

"I can't believe how fucking selfish you're being! I _really_ can't. You're happy you say.....well that's just fucking great..... _FOR YOU!_ In the process of finding that utopia you've completely destroyed the man you've been with for twenty years and my entire existence! Now you want to compound that by taking his son away from him too......what the hell do you think that would do to him?" 

"I didn't mean it like that.....I just thought......" 

"You didn't think......that's just it! You just packed your bags and shut the door behind you on your way out. Fuck everyone else. Liz is happy! Liz has a man who feels her up in the car in the middle of the street.....in front of her son and her husband.......great Mum! Well done! Lots of thought there......so....in answer to your most generous offer.....I'll respectfully decline.  
I don't want to be in the way. I don't want to be the gooseberry in your little love nest with Manfred. I'll stick with my loser Dad thanks......and hope that he can come to realise what a selfish fucking bitch you are, and manage to get on with his life....." 

His mother opened her mouth to speak, then tried again, nothing came out. Because there was nothing he'd said that wasn't a version of the truth, but he was seeing things purely from his own perspective, not anyone else's. Arguing seemed fruitless. 

Nor could she hide her relieved expression when he'd turned her down. 

Sid saw it as plain as the nose on her face. 

" _Oh my God!_ " He exclaimed. "You no more want me here than fly!" Beginning to laugh.  
"You've moved on. You're done with us. You've got a new life now. A fucked up hormonal teenager would just cramp your style." 

Liz turned her back on him. Clutching the worktop. She was suddenly angry. 

"You don't think I have a right to be happy? Is that it? I should be miserable, so you and Dad are okay? That's not how it works I'm afraid. But if _I_ want a life, then I'm being selfish!  
People split up Sid. Welcome to the real world! They fall out of love all the time. They have affairs. They get divorced. They move on. Find new people. Dad will do the same. I'm sorry you feel this way, but I've offered....you've refused......that's up to you. As you rightly say.....you're an adult." 

A tremble ran through the young man, as he regarded the person to whom he'd always looked for love, comfort, support. Standing defiant in front of him.  
He felt as if didn't know her. She was a stranger.  
And right at this very moment he hated her. 

Dropping her shoulders she turned round to face him again. 

"I'm not entirely to blame for all this you know, Sid. And if you were really the adult you claim to be, you'd realise that. It takes two......it always does......so don't make me out to be the villain here....okay?" 

Tears stung. 

Sid had run out of invectives. His show of machismo crumbled.

"But Dad loves you....." He began. 

Reaching out a hand, Liz placed it upon her son's shoulder. Squeezing gently. Her face softer, more kindly. 

"And I loved him, love.....I did.....but, well......it's been a gradual thing. Coming on like. I've not been happy. Not for a while.  
Your Dad is not unkind Sid, he's a nice person...... _most_ of the time. But he can be so fucking pathetic sometimes. Hopeless at making decisions. If things go against him, he just gives up. No fight. No spark.  
For instance. He's always been terrified of his father. It incensed me the way he used to let him and Sandy walk all over him. He never fought back. Never said a word. Doesn't stick up for himself.  
It's bollocks that his father's ill. He's no more ill than I am.....he's a fucking bullshitter and a liar. Nasty with it too. Since childhood he's trampled your Dad into the ground. Never once as he said anything back. Except that one time, the other week.....and then I was so flabbergasted.....so out of character. Amazed, I was.  
He actually sounded like a _MAN!_ First time in ages.  
As the years have passed he's become less and less adventurous. Like he was disappearing inside his shell.  
I _have_ tried Sid.....I have.....but there's only so many times you can be shouted or sworn at......I can't do it anymore. I need more than that......it's just the way it is.  
Manfred and I......we.....well, he's different......spontaneous, crazy sometimes. I love that.  
Your Dad doesn't have a spontaneous bone in his body......and he's got worse as he's got older.  
That's the truth. I can't help it if you don't want to hear it, but there it is." 

The words went in. Swirled around. Anger replaced with irrepressible sadness. 

"The house is a tip." Sid murmured, shrugging her hand away. "It's a pig sty. I hate going home there." 

Liz looked at her son's desolate expression and frowned, shaking her head. 

"Then do something about it Sidney! Clean up for God's sake. Put the hoover round. You're both perfectly capable. You don't need me there to do that!  
If you really can't manage it, then get Dad to hire a cleaner......once a week for a couple of hours or something......I don't want to be your's and Dad's glorified housekeeper and cook anymore Sid .....and that's all I was lately.  
A skivvy.  
Now it's up to you. Both of you. You'll have to damn well help each other.  
Who knows, it could be the making of you.....both of you.  
Either one of you is perfectly capable of ironing, cleaning.....  
You could learn to cook.....all the best chefs are men you know. You and Dad could cook together sometimes perhaps.  
All that housework stuff isn't purely a woman's job.  
This is the 21st century.....we've moved on from clubbing the female over the head and dragging her by the hair back to the man cave.....you'll have to learn.  
It'll do you good......you could cook for Cassie.....that would be good for her too....." 

"Don't pretend like you know anything about Cassie......" Sid scoffed, petulantly. 

"I know she's a lovely young woman. I know you love her. I also know she has problems....but she's not incurable. Not a hopeless case.....nor are you......nor is your Dad.......but you've got to get your finger out. So has he. And I know you can do it. I _know_ you can. You'll make me proud of you." 

Sid laughed again. 

"Like you're not now......"

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" 

"I'm such a fucking disappointment aren't I Mum? I guess the trouble is I'm too much like Dad......."

"You are _not_ your father Sid. You are your own person. The way you handled what happened to Tony was nothing short of amazing. You are kind, thoughtful, you have integrity. Gumption. And you're clever.....when you put your bloody mind to it........speaking of which......how's college?" 

"Alright, I suppose. Ton of coursework, I haven't even started yet. Oh, and we've got a new Psychology teacher. 'Ms' Driscoll. From up North. She seems nice. Certainly more about her than Angie......Chris is beside himself of course, but he'll get over it.....it was a fling.....and one that was completely mental, if not slightly inappropriate.....never going to last. Chris knew that. But he was smitten.  
Ms. Driscoll seems okay. I quite like her. "

"That's good. I'm glad." 

Sid drained his mug. 

"I'd better go." He said, sullenly. "I've got an assignment to do, and I'm meeting Cass."

"I'm always here Sid. You can always come to me. You know that? You're still my son, no matter what. And I still love you.....okay?" 

She made to hug him, but Sid stepped back, out of reach. 

"Too old for a cuddle from your mum now?" She seemed genuinely disappointed.

Her son gave a shrug, but didn't answer, or relent. 

"Bye Mum." 

"You will be alright you know. You'll find your feet.....and Dad will too.....give him time......and Sid?"

"What?" 

"Do some laundry love.....your shirt smells sweaty......" 

"See you Mum."

oOo

By the time Sid reached the coffee shop, Cassie was already there. 

She was sitting by the window with an empty cup and saucer in front of her. Staring dully into it. 

"Sorry I'm a bit late.....I was with Mum." Trying to sound as contrite as possible. 

She looked up, crossly at first, then broke into a radiant smile. 

"Wow! Sid....you look _totally_ stressed out!"

"You want another?" He pointed to her coffee cup, reaching into his pocket for some change. 

"No.....let's go back to yours......" 

Sid was about to protest that, actually he could do with a nice restorative cappuccino, when he realised what she was asking......

"Right! Okay then......let's go....." 

He offered a hand, which she took gladly. Rising, winding her sparkly scarf around her neck, giving him another coquettish little smile. 

oOo

Being naked with Cassie was something that Sid never really thought too much about. 

It was a dream thing. Something he regularly stroked himself off to.....now that he didn't jerk himself off to ' _Asian Fanny Fun'_ or thinking about Michelle. 

Now, here he was. Stripping off hurriedly, lest she should see the effect she had upon him. 

Snucking under the covers, feeling her slide in beside him. 

So beautiful. 

Her skin was pale and delicate. Like rice paper. Little moles here and there on her torso.

The scent of her clothes, her hair....it was fresh, flowery. 

Lithe, tight, long legs which seemed to wrap around him. There wasn't much of her really, she was too thin.  
But Sid knew why, and he wanted to help her in any way he could, even if he really didn't know how. Because she was worth the trouble. She was lovely. She just needed to know that. 

Lips touching his were like rose petals, he sighed, closed his eyes.  
Relaxed into the feel of them against his own.  
One hand closed over her small pert breast. Feeling the pink nipple there beneath his thumb. 

Breathing short and clipped. Trying his best to hold himself back. 

At seventeen this was a difficult feat. 

Coming, feeling he wanted to come, thinking about coming.....it was hard wired into his brain. 

She was sitting up in the bed beside him now, as he lay back, looking up at her. Drinking in her lovely body. 

A gasp, as she rolled a condom down over his length, before moving to sit astride him. 

"Oh fuck!" He whispered, as she lowered herself down. 

_Whiteout! Overload! Coloured lights!_

Leaning forward, she took his arms and placed them up, on either side of his head, holding him down. Her gaze was hard, powerful. She was in control.  
Dictating the movement of their bodies. Riding him until his brain was complete mush and he couldn't breathe, let alone speak. Everything in his head focussed on the rush to completion, and preventing it from happening too soon. 

"Make me come Sid......." She murmured, bending forwards, altering the angle of penetration until Sid thought he'd actually die from a stroke.  
Her fine, blonde hair draped forwards over his face as she kissed him hard. 

She was losing rhythm now, and so was he. It was never going to last long. 

With sudden cry she tilted her head back. The whimper hung there for a split second, before she dove down onto him again, her insides seeming to grip onto his dick and he shot his load within her. 

"Oh _Sidney_!" She whispered then, smiling, she laid herself along his skinny chest, still inside her. Angular hips, bony elbows above him. Her head resting next to his. Mouth close to his ear. 

"I love you." She mouthed, warm air, then her tongue, against his earlobe. 

Bringing his arms down and around her, he held her close. 

"Love you too Cass." 

Bliss. 

Somehow, during those moments everything felt alright with the world.  
There was no shit.  
No parents splitting up. No estrangement from Tony, or hospital visits. No awkwardness with Michelle. No anorexia. No unfinished coursework.  
Not a care in the world. 

It felt like falling. But in a good way. Soft and safe and wonderful. 

Somewhere below them, the sound of a key, the front door opening, then banging shut. 

" _SID!!!! YOU HOME???_ " 

"Shit! That's Dad." 

Instead of leaping up, Cassie burrowed herself under the duvet. Clinging to him tight, as the thumping footsteps drew nearer. 

"SID!! I've bought a takeaway......you want some......" 

The door opened with a flourish. 

"You doing your homew......." 

Mark stopped dead. 

Taking in the scene that met his eyes. 

His son, sans glasses and woolly hat, lying flat on his back, arms clasping the naked body of a flushed and beaming Cassie, who turned as he entered, emerging from beneath the sheets. 

"Hi, Mr Jenkins!" She said prettily. " How was your day?" 

"I.....um......sorry, um......I didn't kn........oof, fuck......" Flustered. Brilliant crimson. Embarrassed. "Er, good thanks.....I'll um......" He pointed behind himself, back down the stairs, before retreating, pulling the door to. 

"There's curry if you want it......" He ended, lamely, from outside on the landing. 

"Thanks Dad.....we'll be down in a minute......" 

The door closed. 

The pair burst into fits of giggles. 

Mark Jenkins tutted gently to himself. He was part scandalised, part inordinately proud!


	4. Tony.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sid wants to reconcile himself with Tony......it doesn't quite turn out as he expects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the details in this chapter are taken from the programme dialogue. Particularly the aftermath of Tony's accident.  
> The rest is purely made up. 
> 
> The reference to Madison Twatter is from the first series, that and his attempt to seduce Maxxie in Russia, are just some examples of the way Tony callously used people.
> 
> As mentioned before, even though the chapters focus on a main character, Sid and Mark appear in all of them.

EPISODE FOUR.  
TONY.

"Why don't you say it.....? I can see you're busting to.....just come out and say it Dad....." 

Mark looked up at his son over the top of the newspaper. 

"How can you tell what I'm thinking when I'm behind the Daily Mirror.......?"

"Because you're flapping it noisily and you keep making huffing noises.....just fucking spit it out...." 

His father laid the paper aside after taking an inordinately long time to fold it carefully, smoothing it flat.  
Then reaching for his mug of tea, he took a slurp.

"You'll accuse me of being a parent." He said eventually, with a resigned shrug. 

"So?"

"You'll say I'm interfering and you're an adult, etc etc......and, well, technically, you're not! An adult I mean. Not until February."

"Just say it Dad." 

"You're very young Sid.....and so is she.....that's all I'm saying." 

"I love her." 

Surprisingly Mark smiled, his eyes were soft, kind. His expression sympathetic. 

"I know son."

"So you're not angry?" 

"What's the point? If I put my foot down with a firm hand....say you can't see each other....stop you sleeping together.....what does that make me? The fucking evil father, who doesn't understand, who hates his son, makes his life a misery, doesn't want him to be happy, or have any fun.....because his own life has gone to shit......"

Sid frowned. 

"Right...."

"......and anyway, you'd only go somewhere else to do it, or see each other behind my back. Plus you'd feel resentful and guilty whilst you did it......I'd rather you were here to be honest." 

"Aren't you going to say I don't know what love is, I'm too young, I don't know what I'm doing....should be concentrating on school work, all that stuff......?"

"No!"

"Oh." 

The massive row Sid anticipated on coming down the stairs that morning had not materialised.  
His father had said nothing the night before, after he and Cassie crept downstairs. Nor had he spoken after she'd left to go home and Sid and Mark were alone.  
At any moment he'd been expecting the hurricane.

So, now, the following morning, he was preparing himself for the onslaught that was sure to come. His father had had all night to consider, decide what he was going to say. 

Except he didn't. 

Instead he was met with an uncomfortable silence. Each man skirting around the other.  
Exchanging formal pleasantries. 

Sid was sure his dad was working up to a major speech. 

After fifteen minutes he'd been able to bear it no longer. Finally he'd decided to start the ball rolling himself. 

The conversation so far had not gone the way he'd envisaged at all. 

Rising from the table with a scrape of his chair, his Dad placed his dirty cereal bowl and cup in the sink, along with all the others.  
His back to his offspring. 

"Do I have to ask if you're taking precautions?" He said quietly. 

"No." 

"Okay, then." 

Turning, he leaned heavily against the counter. His hands stretched out on either side of him, watching Sid carefully, fingers gripping the side until his knuckles were white.  
His face was sorrowful, tired looking, eyes moist and dewy. As if he had the cares of the world on his shoulders. 

"Just be careful Sid, that's all I ask......please....." 

"I am. I use condoms.....always......" 

"I don't mean that son. I trust you to be sensible enough to work out your own contraception.....I'm talking about Cassie. She's a very vulnerable young woman, fragile, breakable. I can see it. Just go easy, that's all......"

"Ok. I will. Thanks Dad......really. Thanks." 

Taking a deep breath in, and letting it whistle through his lips, his father turned away again. 

"Any plans for today?" He enquired, attempting to sound bright. 

"Yeah. I'm going to Tony's." 

"Is that wise?" 

"Fuck knows. But I'm going. I can't stand this tension between us. I'm hoping to talk to him." 

"Right. Well, good luck with it." 

"Cheers. What about you?" 

"I'm gonna try and tackle some o' this......" he waved his arms around himself expansively, taking in, with a sweep, the mess and debris all about.

"Ok.....well, when I've seen Tone, I'll come home, help you.....okay? Need to put some washing on.....I've run out of pants." 

"Me too." 

"Fucking hell Dad! We'll be alright, won't we? You and me......why is everything so fucking complicated? I just want a normal life." 

His father scoffed. 

"There is no normal life son. There's just LIFE. You have to take what's chucked at you. Get on with it, I guess. It's shit.......I'll see you a bit later then, yeah?" 

"Yeah. Later."

oOo

The front door was opened at his ring. 

The face that stared at him was angry, hurt, hostile. 

"Hi, Mrs Stonem."

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"I've come to see Tony......please......." 

Sid had prepared himself for being sent away with a flea in his ear. 

The time he'd spent at Tony's bedside was forgotten by his mother. She saw only his abandonment since. 

"He's in bed." Her tone was clipped, curt and matter-of-fact. Arms folded across her chest. 

Standing across the threshold so that it was quite clear to Sid that he wouldn't be crossing it.

"Mrs Stonem, you don't understand, I......I couldn't handle it.....after.....he was different, it was a shock....I'm sorry......" 

Tony's mother didn't look the same to Sid as before either, there was something different about her too. 

Pinched and world weary, but more than that, she looked almost punch drunk. As if she'd been fourteen rounds with Mike Tyson.  
Her fingers now holding on to the side of the doorframe to steady herself, were white where she gripped it. There was a slight dishevelled look about her, where previously she'd always been so fastidious about her appearance.  
Also, she was still in her nightdress and dressing gown, and it was almost lunchtime. 

The stare she gave Sid was defiant, however. 

"Maxxie was there, _he_ wasn't fazed by Tony's injury, he's been wonderful......" 

"I know. Maxxie's a nice guy. Mrs Stonem.... _please_....I really need to talk to Tony.....it's very important..." 

At that moment the man himself appeared at his mother's shoulder. 

Wearing nothing but white underpants. 

"Mum, I heard the door bell, who.....oh, hi Sid." He said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Come up...." 

Mrs Stonem made to open her mouth, meaning to put voice her disapproval, but obviously thought better of it.  
With a cocking motion of her head towards the stairs, as she stood aside reluctantly, allowing Sid to enter. 

Once in Tony's bedroom, Sid shut the door behind him. 

Tony himself was back in bed, sitting propped up against the headboard, that ludicrous duvet cover over him, which was a naked man minus his head, laying on his front, with a naked woman next to him, laying on her back, also minus her head.  
Sid hated that cover with a vengeance. 

"Well ,Sid.....what's up.....why are you here?" He asked. Watching his friend's obvious discomfiture with some amusement, as he stood, shuffling his feet, looking awkward, trying to work out what to say. 

"I came to say sorry. To see if we can patch up our friendship. I can't stand us being like this.....it's driving me mad." 

"Effy told me you came to see me everyday in hospital, while I was out of it." 

"Yeah. I did."

"Read to me. Talked to me. Played me music. Fucked my girlfriend for me. Quite the brotherly love......" 

Sid winced. 

"Tony....it just happened, okay.....we were thrown together, it was a mistake....I know that now, I was fucking lonely, feeling like shit, she was too.... but I'm with Cassie now. I love her.....I don't love Michelle. _You do_. We're just friends. She's your girlfriend, always will be. Can't we get passed this?"

"What happened?" 

"What do you mean, _'what happened'_?"

"Why'd you fuck off.....when I came round from the coma.....why'd you stop coming?"

"Because I couldn't handle it. You weren't _'you'_ anymore. The person I'd grown up with. You couldn't remember. You were different. It was a shock. I felt.....I dunno.....it was like I'd lost you." 

"Very poetic Sidney."

"I knew you'd take the fucking piss. Wouldn't understand. So....what the hell....I felt like I'd got to get to know you all over again....and it hurt, it was painful.....I hated it.....and I'm sorry." 

His friend gave a shrug of acceptance. There was no anger, it was almost as if he was toying with his pal, making him feel as bad as he possibly could, before forgiving him. 

"I'm gonna get it all back you know.....I am. It's not gonna beat me. I'm going to take my A levels. I'm gonna apply to Uni. Dad doesn't think I can do it. But I'll show him.  
In case you didn't notice....Mum's on planet Zog by the way, she's suffering from depression.  
The Doc has given her pills, so she's off her face half the time. Dad's gone abroad....for work, he says....but it's because of me. He can't hack it. Seeing me everyday, remembering what I once was.....so......it seems you're not the only one....." 

Sid sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling off his woolly hat. His expression desolate. 

"Please Tony......."

"Only Effy treats me like I'm not a fucking basket case. Oh, and Maxxie. So long as I don't 'gay' him...." 

"Maxxie's a good mate. I don't suppose you remember trying to suck him off....when we went to Russia?"

Tony smiled wryly, but shook his head. 

"Michelle saw you, you know."

"So what?" 

"See? That's what I mean....that was typical of you. You used people Tony....you manipulated them. Fuck, you did it to me. All the time, and I let you. You don't remember Madison Twatter either do you?" 

"Nope."

"See? And _that's_ why I struggle......there are whole sections of our lives that you've got no idea about anymore. For crying out loud......you were there when I learned to ride my little red bike, with the stabilisers on it. You were there on my first day at school. When I fell out of that tree when I was ten, and you ran all the way to my house to get my Mum......and it's all gone. For you anyway. It's hard Tony.....just hard, that's all." 

"Well.....all the more reason to try harder then Sidney. To reclaim it all. Some things have come back already. The other day I remembered that you had Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle figures......and we used to play with them......"

"Really? Well......that's great......I mean......that's really good......"

Tony slid himself out of bed and began to, one handedly, pull on socks and his jeans. 

"Help me with the button....." It was not a request, more a demand. 

Sid obeyed without a thought. Pulling his friend's waistband tight and pushing the metal stud through the buttonhole. 

"Since you're here, and eager to rekindle our friendship, I've got a little jaunt planned." He said, spraying deodorant under each armpit.

"Oh....I don't know Tony.....I can't really......" 

"What do you mean, you can't.....?"

"Well, I've got stuff to do......coursework......and I promised I'd help Dad......"

"Sidney.....it's not your job to look after your parent. Your Dad is a grown man, he can sort himself out." 

Sid frowned at the total lack of understanding by his friend. Perhaps he hadn't changed that much after all. 

"Yeah. I know, but he's been struggling a bit. Anyway.....I put Cass off too.....told her I wouldn't see her today, so I could do this damn assignment.....I really should do it." 

"Okay. That's fair enough. Clearly you're not that bothered about making amends then....." 

"Oh fucking hell Tone......"

"No, no....that's fine. I'll just go by myself. I'm sure I'll be quite safe without a chaperone." 

Backed into a corner. Sid didn't have the heart to refuse. That was the problem. Tony was very difficult to say 'no' to. 

"Okay!" He sighed resignedly. "Count me in......what did you have in mind?" 

oOo

The view from the top deck of the bus passed by almost unnoticed as Sid stared, unseeing at the Bristol streets. 

"Where are we going?" He ventured. 

"You'll see...." Tony was nothing if not evasive. 

Sid's uneasiness grew as they dismounted at the Victoria Park, where scores of people seemed to be heading. 

In the distance he spotted coloured lights, a Ferris wheel, rides and blaring music. 

The Fair was in town. 

Sid's heart sank. 

"Bloody hell Tony, this isn't a good idea." He patted his pockets. "I'm skint...."

Turning, his friend gave him what could only be described as a withering look. 

"You won't need money." He replied, heading towards the turnstiles. "I told you, I have a plan...." 

Just before they reached the queue, Tony veered off to the left, skirting around to the side. Following the perimeter fence round, glancing about him frequently to make sure no one was watching. 

"Here we go....." He beamed, triumphant. 

There was a small hole in the wire, just enough to crawl through. Lifting it, he motioned to Sid, his eyes scanning for potential security the whole time. 

"Tony, you're mad. We'll get caught. You have to have a wrist band."

"All in hand Sidney, all in hand." Came the response as he snuck inside. 

Everything about what they were doing made Sid's senses scream. He ardently wished he was a million miles away. 

Once inside the cordon, Tony led the way. 

A cry from behind him made Sid jump. 

"Oi! _You!_ " 

"RUN!" 

Grabbing his friend's jacket, Tony began to sprint. 

"LEG IT!" He cried. 

Cutting round between the caravans parked in rows around the edges of the fairground proper.  
Sid soon fell behind. The mobile homes were all the same, confusing, he lost sight of Tony pretty quickly.  
"Oh fuck!" He breathed. Bending over, holding his knees, catching his breath.  
An arm came from a gap between the buildings, pulling him to one side.  
A finger over his lips. 

"Shhhh!" Tony whispered. 

Their pursuers passed by, moving away in the other direction. 

"C'mon!" His friend hissed, pulling two blue wristbands from an inside pocket. "Let's have some fun!"

oOo

Cassie and Jal wandered amongst the brightly coloured stalls; candy floss, toffee apples, a coconut shy, ping pong ball in the hole for a goldfish.....the poor hapless things swimming gloomily around in their glass bowls. 

Cassie stopped. 

"Wow! Poor fishes." She said. "I wish I could take them all home. Let's try to win one, I could give it to Sid." 

"Where is he anyway, why isn't he here?" Jal sipped coke through her drinking straw. 

"He's at home. Doing his Psychology assignment." Cass replied wistfully, buying three table tennis balls from the vendor. Concentrating hard on throwing them at the target. 

Jal pulled her friend's sleeve. 

"Er.....Cass......." 

The pull on her arm jerked the white ball and it plopped into the bowl squarely. 

"Yay! I won!" She cried with a wide smile, arms in the air. 

Still beaming, she turned to see what Jal wanted. 

"Isn't that......?" She left the sentence dangling, as she and Cassie watched Tony and Sid take their seats on the waltzer. 

Jal looked at her companion with some degree of sympathy. 

Cassie's face fell, her eyes narrowed, reaching for her phone, texting. 

_"Hi Sid, how's the assignment going?"_

Seeing him delve into his pocket at the sound of the message alert, from where the two girls stood, hidden slightly behind the goldfish stall.

 _"Not good."_ Came the response.

_"Shall I come round?"_

_"No! I'm actually with Tony......he's offered to help me."_

_"Yeah? Fuck you Sid."_

Cassie switched off her phone without waiting to see what response, if any, came. The bitter disappointment in her expression palpable. 

"Here you are lovey." The stall holder handed her a rather limp looking goldfish in a plastic bag. 

She held it aloft, watching the poor creature swim round and round in ever decreasing circles. 

"Come on little fella." She whispered. "Let's go home, I'll put you in Chris's fish tank." 

She turned to Jal, standing patiently at her side. 

"Let's go. Suddenly it's not fun here anymore." She said coldly. 

oOo

It was not until they stepped from the waltzer that the inevitable happened. 

They were collared. 

Two firm hands on each of their shoulders. 

_"Gotcha!"_

It was pointless protesting. Sid didn't bother.  
Tony wriggled and fought back, complaining of the injustice the whole time, as the pair were frogmarched towards the exit. 

"Fucking little Hitler.....the power had gone to your head....." he spat.  
The burly security guard, whose neck was the same width as his head, ignored his pleas. 

Reaching the gate, he shoved them unceremoniously through. 

"OUT!" He growled menacingly. "And if I catch you back in again I'll call the cops. Now fuck off you little squirts!" 

Sid rearranged his stretched T Shirt. Brushing himself down.  
Tony continued to admonish the bouncer, fruitlessly. 

"Oh leave it Tone, for fucks sake.....it's not worth it." 

Hands stuffed into his pockets, Sid turned away, the hunch of resignation in his shoulders.

"I'm going home." He said, dejectedly. 

From behind him came the sudden sound of violent retching. 

Recalling the events later, Sid could barely remember properly what happened.  
It was all unclear, a blur. Not real. 

Like he was a bystander and it was all happening around him, to someone else. 

The collapse. The puking. Wrenching out his phone. The ambulance arriving. 

Tony's glazed expression as he was loaded into it. A crowd gathering to watch. 

So sudden. 

Travelling to the hospital in the back of the van, watching the paramedics working on his hapless friend. 

Blood pressure, a torch shone into his unfocused eyes. Questions barked both at himself and his friend. 

"Has he taken anything?" 

Sid shook his head. 

"Nothing. He can't.....he's on special medication.....he had a subdural haematoma from a road accident, a few months back......"

"Then what was he doing at the bloody Fairground? Those rides can be dangerous for someone with a history like that......why didn't you stop him?" 

Sid swallowed heavily. 

Holy shit. 

How could he fucking stop Tony doing _anything_? For Christ's sake. He never even thought, not for a moment.  
Tony didn't mention.....

"I didn't know......I mean....." He stammered. 

More guttural sounds of Tony vomiting copiously. Moaning. Complaining of a violent headache.

Slumping back into the seat, Sid watched in despair. His first instinct was to ring his own Dad, but he thought better of it.  
Instead he dialled Effy. 

It was all he could think of. 

oOo

The corridor was hectically busy. Trolleys, some empty, some not. The walking wounded. Crutches. Walking frames. Nurses hurrying. Bleeps going off. Some guy yelling in pain. Mayhem. 

An antiseptic smell. 

Dettol.....

Or something. 

Sid hated it. 

It brought back memories of visiting Tony for those weeks he was unconscious. 

His guts churned with fear. 

Why the fuck did he want to go to the Fair? Knowing that the rides might be dangerous for him? 

Daft prat. 

He gave a disconsolate puff. Crossing his arms across his front. Effy, who sat silently beside him, turned to look at him with ill disguised annoyance. 

"Don't fucking give me that look." He snapped. 

Tony's sister raised an eyebrow but made no comment. 

"It isn't my fault.....it fucking isn't okay? I didn't even know he was planning to come to the Fair....he wouldn't say where we were going." 

"But you just trotted along at his heel. Like a stupid spaniel.....?" She said eventually. 

"Yeah. Because he cajoled me into it." 

Effy laughed. 

"It's time you distanced yourself from my brother a little Sid. Step out from his shadow. Show some gumption and start to be your own person. Tony uses people. He always has. It's his way. He's a bit different since the accident.....but not much.  
Tony's self serving ego is what's taken a bashing, he's trying to regain his power over people. You included. Don't let him Sid. You'll end up being the one in trouble." 

"I already am. He doesn't do that to you...."

"No. Never has. He knows he'd never get away with it. We know each other too well. Have an understanding. But he'll make you into his creature again Sid, if you allow it." 

"Fuck, but I hope he's alright in there.....it's been an hour....." 

"Dad's on his way from the airport. I didn't call Mum, but I knew Dad was on his way home from Berlin today, so I left him a message. He'll be here shortly." 

"Great! He'll blame me for this. It'll all be my fucking fault.....your mum blames me for abandoning him, and now your Dad'll think I led him to this....." 

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself for God's sake. At least you're whole. You don't have to take medication every day. Or learn to use your hand.....or have someone cut your dinner up for you.....nor do you have horrible nightmares, wake up screaming......" 

Sid frowned. This information was new to him. 

He had no idea that Effy read to her brother at night to settle him, and frequently went to his aid, holding him close, stroking his hair to soothe him when he woke in a sweat some hours later, unsure of where he was. 

At that moment the swing doors burst open, to admit Jim Stonem. 

His look swung between the two young people. Almost wild with worry. 

"Where is he?" He demanded. 

"He'll be okay dad." Effy stood, laying a hand on her fathers arm. 

Sid remained silent, but raised his eyes hopefully. 

"What's _he_ doing here?" Ignoring Sid completely, her father addressed himself solely to his daughter. 

"Dad. If it weren't for Sid, Tony would be in a much worse situation. His quick thinking may have saved him."

"Why was he at the fair in the first place? He knows he's not allowed to do certain things...."

The volume was rising. 

"Because he's an idiot Dad.....and he thinks he knows better than anyone, what he can do and what he can't.....but you can't wrap him in cotton wool......" 

Her words were met with a scoff of derision. 

Effy turned. 

"Here comes the consultant....." She whispered, clutching his sleeve. 

oOo

It was almost midnight before Sid reached home. 

Fortunately, Tony had been given the all clear. After a few hours of observation he'd been allowed home. 

Effy gave him a look of sympathy as she, her father and brother stepped into the taxi. 

Sid watched dumbly as it drove away. 

Turning, hands thrust into his pockets. No money. No buses. It was a three mile walk home. 

Fuck. 

Taking out his mobile, he scrolled. Several messages. 

Cassie. 

Spanning several hours, growing more vitriolic as she didn't receive a reply from him.

_15.15. "How's the assignment coming on now Sid?"_

_15.27. "Did you have a fun time with Tony?"_

_15.50. "BTW Jal and I saw you at the Fair. You're such a cunt Sid."_

_18.49."You know what? You're a sodding liar too. Telling me you were staying home, so you could go out with the real love of your life. Don't know why you can't just be honest and tell me you don't want to see me? Coward."_

_20.01"Okay, well still no fucking reply from you, so I'm assuming you're having such a totally good time you can't even be bothered to answer me."_

_23.20. "It's over Sid. Don't even bother messaging now. Consider yourself dumped."_

Sid's eyes scanned the texts. 

"Oh _fuck!_ "

Reaching his front door, Sid had a blister on the back of his left heel. 

Letting himself in. 

Hall light on. Into the lounge. 

"Oh fuck!" He said again. 

His Dad. 

Mark. 

Sitting in a heap on the floor. 

Surrounded by rubbish bags, uncollected mess and the detached pieces of the hoover.....plus a half empty bottle of Scotch. 

Hurrying to his side. 

"Dad! You okay? What happened? Did you fall?" 

A pair of weepy bleary eyes looked up at him. 

"Werrre've you been?" Came the pathetic plea. "Yer prrommised.....come hame ye said.....help me ye said......fuckin' hoover......fuckin' fuck everythin'......"

"Oh fucking hell, Dad." Breaking down himself now. " I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. I fucked up. _Everything_. Again. Let's get you up.....I'll make you some tea......"


	5. Chris.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sid is in trouble. 
> 
> The gang are all at the club. 
> 
> Mark has to go into the school, to meet Sid's teacher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main part of this chapter focuses on Chris Miles and his burgeoning relationship with Jal Fazer. Apart from Sid, Chris was one of my favourites of the youngsters in Skins, he lived for the moment! 
> 
> The night club track here is Faithless, Insomnia. 
> 
> There is also a bit of Sid....his new teacher is not best pleased!

EPISODE FIVE.  
CHRIS.

Sid remained at his desk. Where he'd been told to wait. 

He knew it was coming. 

Unavoidable. 

Eyes following the others enviously as they filed out at the end of the lesson. Some looking back in sympathy. Others with contempt. One of them Cassie. Who had pointedly ignored and avoided him completely all morning. 

He was so fucked. 

Ms Driscoll leaned her bottom against her desk in front of him. Arms folded across her chest. 

She was dressed neatly as usual this morning. Dark slacks, a mustard coloured crew neck jumper, little amber beads in a string round her neck. Her fair hair curled back into a grip, but with lose tendrils snaking down around her face rather prettily. Wasn't half bad he mused.....for a teacher......

There was a slight flush to her cheek, she was clearly annoyed, but also perplexed. Brown eyes stern and questioning. 

The classroom door closed behind the last pupil, Sid took a breath in, preparing himself for the inevitable onslaught. 

"You know why I've asked you to stay back?" She began, in her distinctive Newcastle brogue.

Not raising his eyes to meet hers. Staring resolutely at his knees. Sid shrugged. 

"Sid? I'd appreciate it if you could do me the curtesy of looking at me, please." 

Flicking his gaze at her, then away again bashfully.  
What could he say? 

Anything he did say would sound like exactly what it was. An excuse. So he remained stubbornly shtum.  
When he chanced a second glance up, she was waiting patiently, one eyebrow raised. 

The silent _"Well?"_ there for him to see. 

"Sorry." He ventured. 

Moving to his side, she sat down. Sid could smell a subtle perfume, and washing powder. A clean, wholesome scent.  
He swallowed thickly, like a doomed prisoner about to ascend the gallows. 

"Sid. Talk to me. Why haven't you done the assignment?" 

"Dunno." Woefully inadequate he knew. It was all he could come up with. 

A frustrated sigh came from her. 

"If you have a problem, or don't understand what you're meant to be doing, or you need help with some aspect of the work, then you're meant to ask.....I'm your teacher.....that's what I'm here for." 

Sid turned to look at her properly for the first time. 

She really was nice looking. Not that he fancied her, but she was......pleasant. Kind. Concerned.  
Could he actually trust her? 

His last run in with a teacher, Tom, had been a complete unmitigated disaster. Never was a person more far removed from those he taught. A bloody joke. He'd spouted meaningless psychobabble, insincere and nonsensical. Sid closed his eyes at the memory.  
His dad walking down the corridor at his side.  
Ranting.  
Speaking in very short sentences. That was the start of the slide. Where it all seemed to slip away from him and become unbearable. 

_Manfred. Liz. Mark. Cassie. Michelle. Tony._

Sid screwed his eyes tighter. 

Fuck it all. Fuck everything. He was a failure. 

What his parents really wanted was for him to be someone like Tony. His Dad had almost said it once. Stopped himself. 

Without his realising it, a tear coursed it's way down his cheek. Opening his eyes Sid could see Ms Driscoll watching it, almost fascinated.  
He brushed it angrily away. 

"Doesn't matter what I say. Won't make any difference." He said, dejectedly. 

"Try me, pet." Came the reply. 

Sid gazed at her through the lenses of his spectacles. Her head was cocked to one side slightly. Reaching forward she placed her hand on his forearm. Fingers gripping very lightly. 

"I'm waiting." She said quietly. 

"I fucked up." It was all he could think of to say. 

"How?" She countered, without removing her hand. 

"Things aren't good at home. Mum's fucked off. That's my fault. Then Cassie was in hospital....she took an overdose. That's my fault too. There was Tony's accident.......all the shit with him and his parents....my fault again.....  
I was planning to do the project ages ago, but stuff kept happening..... _KEEPS_ happening. I was gonna do it Sunday......then Tony got rushed to hospital.....I'll get the blame for that as well. So. That's it. That's me. I fuck everything up......all there is to it." 

Ms Driscoll released her grip on his sleeve, stood up, moved around behind her desk. Leaning on it. Staring forwards. Her brow furrowed. As if deep in thought. 

"Are you gonna kick me off the course?" Sid asked. " I wouldn't blame you......"

"No Sid. I'm not." 

Sid Jenkins looked suddenly ridiculously hopeful. 

She sat down, steepling her fingers in front of her face. Pondering. 

"The work you've handed in to my predecessor is of a good standard. I made a point of looking. But I need a proper discussion. I need to air a few concerns. This is your future Sid. It will determine what happens when you leave here. With that in mind, what I would like is for your parents to come and see me."

Sid blanched. 

"Oh you're _kidding_ me? It'll be just like last time....." He stood up so suddenly that the chair fell over with a crash. "It was awful......Dad ranting. Mum and Dad arguing over how fucking useless I am....me grounded.....everything went Pete Tong.  
Mum won't come anyway.....I don't want her to, to be honest....she doesn't care about me anymore......but Dad'll be furious......it's the last thing he needs right now.....he's struggling.....OH, this is my _worst_ fucking nightmare.....wake me up someone......"

Ms Driscoll held up a silencing hand. 

"Quiet!" She barked, then, in a more gentle tone....."if you'd prefer your mother not to come then I would at least like to speak with your father, Sid. Please ask him to come into the school. I would talk to him in your presence, then I'd like an informal chat....alone. Do I need to write an official letter, or can I rely on you to tell him?" 

Slumping back into the seat, Sid groaned. 

"I'll tell him." He paused. "Oh, well....." he gave a huge sigh of resignation. "That'll do it. I really am fucked now. I suppose I deserve it.....serves me right for being an idiot......fuck it all." His head came down into his palms. 

A hand was rested on his back suddenly. Just between the shoulder blades. Her voice soft. 

"Just ask him to come in after school tomorrow, pet. Hopefully we can sort it out. In the meantime....make a start on the assignment.....okay.....? I can only give you a week, mind." 

"Okay. Thanks Miss." 

Sid rose and left the room like a condemned man. 

oOo

The middle of the dance floor. 

Darkness.

Lights dimmed. 

All that could be heard was the silky smoothness of the voice, with a muted bass line pulsing behind it. 

A wall of sound. 

_"Deep in the bosom of the gentle night,_  
_Is when I search for the light._  
_Pick up my pen and start to write_  
_I struggle, I fight_  
_Dark forces in the clear moonlight._  
_Without fear._

_I can't get no sleep._

_Insomnia......."_

Bodies swayed in unison. A community, a tribe, as one.  
Some with eyes closed.  
Others staring up at the ceiling above. 

Breathing hard and fast. 

Sweaty. 

Male and female slotted together like pieces of a jigsaw as the sound throbbed. 

Girls holding girls. Boys entwined with boys. 

It didn't matter. 

Hands held aloft as if in supplication as the treble kicked in and the mass pounding began. 

Fingers stretched towards the lights, feeling the percussion through every fibre. Each one a conduit through which the sanctifying spirit might pass. 

Thrumming through the chest bone, down the legs and out of the soles of the feet. 

Leaping up. Leaving the floor en masse, rising and falling for several manic, ecstatic moments. 

Before subsiding. 

Powering down. 

Swaying again. 

Like a dragon, breathing fire one minute, sleeping the next. 

_"I used to worry_  
_Thought I was going mad in the hurry_  
_Getting stressed, making excess mess in the darkness_  
_No electricity, something's all over me, greasy_  
_Insomnia please release me......."_

Sid could feel the perspiration soaking his clothes. Running down his spine, wet patches beneath his armpits. His waistband, his crotch.  
A powerful smell of hormonal musk all around him. 

So strong you could almost taste it. 

Michelle was there....alone. 

Lithely clad in a sequinned top. Spangles of which caught the strobe lights as she moved. 

Jal was close beside him but completely lost to the rhythm. Her hips gyrating with each beat. She looked lovely tonight, different somehow.  
Like she'd reached some momentous decision. 

Chris rocked from side to side. Arms lose, like rubber. Hair wet with sweat. Plastered against his forehead.  
He was high.  
The kaleidoscope of colours bathing him with an almost celestial glow of golds, purples and greens. 

Living for the moment......because.....fuck.....what else was there? 

_".......And let me dream of making mad love to my girl on the heath_  
_Tearing off tights with my teeth._  
_But there's no release, no peace...._  
_I toss and turn without cease_  
_Like a curse, I open my eyes and rise like yeast_  
_At least a couple of weeks since I slept, kept taking sleepers......."_

Immersed in the velvety grasp of the music. Cosseted and surrounded by its poetry and the motion of their twin torsos, the two came together, clasping onto each other like they would never be torn apart.  
Mouth mashed against mouth. 

Snogging almost ferociously, hands gripping, finding purchase.  
Holding fast. 

Then peeling away, shocked at the suddenness of their duel onslaught......their eyes locked. 

Questioning, then breaking into wild abandoned laughter. 

"Fuck it!" Jal yelled, as the chocolatey smooth vocal continued on unperturbed. 

_"....But now I keep myself pepped_  
_Deeper still, that night,_  
_I write by candlelight, I find insight_  
_Fundamental movement, huh, so when it's black_  
_This insomniac, take an original tack_  
_Keep the beast in my nature under ceaseless attack._

_I gets no sleep....._

_I can't get no......sleep...."_

The beat exploded. Staccato dynamite. Punching the air with its florid electric sound.

Whomping out into the frenzy of crescendo. 

Loud and proud and vibrant. 

Up and down they all lurched. 

Not for the fainted hearted. 

The crush of bodies and the sense of being a part of something, profound. 

Freedom. 

Just for a little while. 

All cares washed away in the heat and the maelstrom. 

_Life....._

Perhaps it was worth living after all. 

oOo

When Sid arrived home it was after two. 

He was not smashed, nor was he wasted. 

Just pleasantly buzzing. 

He'd managed to speak to Cassie.  
Told her exactly what had happened on Saturday. Apologised until he couldn't think of any other ways to say he was sorry.  
He was a dick, he knew it.  
Always would be.  
Levelled with her.......he was in trouble. So deep. So many ways. 

Something had to change. 

Ms Driscoll was on his back. He needed to focus on his A levels more, and try his best to be there for his dad. Concentrate his efforts less on Tony. 

He wanted to go out with her more than anything, but he'd understand if she'd rather he left her alone. 

All he could say really. 

Honesty. 

He was really sorry. 

She kissed him. 

Not a little peck, but a deep, close, meaningful kiss. Her eyes shining. 

"At last." She whispered. 

"Eh?" Sid's perpetual state of confusion amused her. 

"You're actually making decisions for yourself. Not being led by others. Stick to it Sid.....I love you." 

"Oh, fuck! Cassie......." He pulled her back into him. Not to kiss her but to hold her tight, feel her close to him, smell her perfume and bathe in the warmth which came from her.  
Seeping into his heart and mind and making him feel dizzy and euphoric all at once. 

She began to laugh. 

Moving back, she looked down at the massive erection tenting his trousers. 

He tried to look as apologetic as he could. 

"Sorry." He said again. 

"Shall we go back to mine?" Her smile was all knowing. 

"Sounds like a plan." He gave a grin which he hoped conveyed his contrition, his hopefulness, as well as his lust. 

Threading her fingers through his, they left the dance floor together. 

oOo

The lights in the living room were still on. 

Sid fervently hoped that his dad wasn't lying on the sofa, smashed, or on the floor....or anything. 

Opening the door slowly he peered in. 

The TV was still on. 

Mark Jenkins was sitting, his legs curled beneath him, a coffee clasped in his hand.  
Fingers around the cup. He looked weary beyond tiredness. 

The place was still a mess, but there was clean laundry hanging here and there on coat hangers. 

On the floor beside him, an empty plate, with the remnants of ketchup and a smell of frying which lingered in the air. 

"Hi Dad." 

"Alright son?"

"Yeah. You okay?" 

Reaching for the remote Mark muted the telly. 

"I'm alright. It's you I'm worried about. Where have you been? It's late." 

"Went to the club. Then back to Cassie's. But didn't stay......Chris and Jal were there first......"

"Had a phone call earlier this afternoon." 

His father was stern looking, but compassionate, his eyes registering a level of disappointment that was plain to see.  
Sid feigned ignorance. 

"Oh?"

"From the school." 

Sid swallowed. 

"Oh." He replied again flatly. 

"I'm meeting your new teacher tomorrow." Mark looked up from his seat. 

"I waited up, I wanted to talk to you. I want to know what to expect when I go in there....." 

His eyebrows were raised in an unasked question. 

"Fuck. Have you spoken to Mum?" 

Unfurling his legs, Mark stood up, gathering his plate and empty cup. Making his way out to the kitchen.  
Sid followed like a whipped dog. 

"No. I don't think your mother needs to know." 

He turned sharply as a little breath of relief puffed from his son's mouth. His gaze intense. 

"Tell me Sid. Talk to me. Why am I being called in? What's going on with you?" 

"Didn't hand my course work in."

"Why?"

Sid shrugged. 

"Dunno."

Mark held his head with one hand, rubbing over his forehead roughly. 

"Well, who _does_ know?"

"Stuff happened....okay? I was gonna do it Sunday.....but then Tony......." 

"Ah!" His dad nodded sagely. " So, you had a deadline of _ONE DAY._......but that was scuppered because you went to the Fair with Tony......I totally understand......"

"It wasn't like that." 

"No? Well, what _was_ it like then, son......?"

"So much has been going on lately.....I just can't hack it......  
......Dad, don't have a go at me for fucks sake.....I know you want me to be like Tony......you very nearly said it once......but you know what?  
Tony wasn't actually that nice a person. He's wasn't the _wunderkind_ you seem to think. He used people. For his own amusement. I see it now.  
But since the accident......well, it's been a blow to him. In more ways than one. Knocked him sideways a bit, the result is that he's not as powerful as he was. I can see through him.  
I know it's taken me a while, but hey.....what he tried on Saturday was the old Tony trying to come through. Manipulating. Getting me to do what he wants.  
Well, I'm not gonna do it anymore. It's always me that ends up in trouble.  
We're still friends, but it's never gonna be like it was. He tried to make me into his puppet again, but he can go fuck himself. It's time I decided for myself what I'm gonna do." 

"Okay. Well, that seems pretty decisive......so......this teacher......Ms Driscoll......what's she like?"

"Honestly? I'm not really sure. I don't really know her that well. She seems pretty on it. But it's difficult to tell. I quite like her I guess. Appears to be genuine.....but then.....I'm not a very good judge of character.....what the fuck do I know?"

"So, apart from not handing in your assignment....there's nothing else I should be prepared to be clobbered with?"

"Nope."

"Right. Well. I'm away to my bed. I'll see _YOU_ after school tomorrow......" He shuffled away in his slippers and dressing gown without another word. 

Sid watched him go. 

"Christ!" He hissed to himself. 

His Dad needed someone. Needed him. 

Sidney Jenkins had to get his life together. 

oOo

There was a distinct chill in the air. 

Mainly due to the fact that Chris couldn't really afford to heat the flat properly, so he rarely turned on the rads.

At least he was no longer living in the crummy room at the College. 

It was the one consequence of his relationship with Angie that had worked in his favour. He had lost her, but gained somewhere settled to live.  
Probably the best and most meaningful thing she could have done for him. 

Turning over, pulling the duvet up to his chin, he beheld his still sleeping bedfellow. 

Warm and soft. 

Curled against him. Her dusky skin smooth as silk. 

Chris turned onto his side so that he could look at her more closely. 

He'd never really considered Jal as a potential conquest. She always seemed so far above him.  
Classy. Clever......fiercely so.  
Beautiful too. 

But here they were. 

Far more than just a frantic shag.....although if he was completely honest, Chris didn't actually remember much of the previous night.  
A bit blurry.  
Fuzzy at the edges.  
Pleasant though, and he knew fucking had been involved because he felt that pleasant, peaceful feeling which he only experienced after a hedonistic evening of vibrant coupling followed by rampant sex and lots of ejaculation! 

In short he was roundly fucked. 

Snuggling his head between her breasts, breathing in her scent.  
She opened her eyes, yawning widely. 

At ease. As if it was the place she woke every morning. 

"Hi Chris." She whispered into his hair. 

"Hi Jal." He replied, muffled against her chest. 

The silence hung between them. 

"That was a bit unexpected." She commented eventually. 

"Wonderful though." 

Pulling away, he looked into her face. Giving her his best and, he hoped, most vulnerable smile. 

Always worked. 

Melting their resolve. 

"You're a bloody clown...." Her hand came up and stroked his cheek gently. ".....but in a nice way." 

"Gee, thanks!" 

Expression now changing to _'injured'_. 

"Why is it so frickin' cold in here?" A shiver went through her and she tried to tuck her arms under the duvet cover. 

"Heating's not on......immersion is......but not the radiators......" 

"It's like a fridge." 

"I've no money for the meter." He tried to insinuate himself closer to her, but she held him at bay. 

"Chris, when are you going to be sensible? When are you going to put a little money by for such luxuries as food....heating....." 

"You mean when am I going to stop living.....become staid and old, and boring.....like...." 

"Like what?"

"Like...."

"You were going to say.... _'like me'_ , weren't you?"

"No. Actually. I wasn't. I was going to say _'like my parents_ '.....you are far from boring....you proved that last night!"

Jal giggled, as she felt his chilly hands wandering. 

"Let's do it again.......let's do it, not under the influence of any chemical substances.....let's do it properly. Mmm?"

Her reply was to reach forwards, taking his stiffening dick in her hand and stroking it teasingly. 

His eyes fluttered shut. 

"Oh, holy fucking..... _yeah_....." 

The touch made electric jolts of desire shoot through his body. From the ends of his hair to the tips of his toes. 

Not today the usual downer he felt after the taking any of various compounds.

His brain was buzzing most agreeably as his cock responded to her hand. 

This was bliss. 

This wasn't a quick poke in a bathroom, or in the changing rooms at college. It wasn't rushed or sordid or like most of the sex he'd experienced before. 

This was real. 

Slow, deliberate and incredibly sexy. 

Her lips closing over his as she pumped him, opening her legs, inviting him to pleasure her in return. 

Fuck, but he could barely contain himself. 

This..... _this was love_. 

oOo

Later, he woke alone. Padding out he found her at the kitchen counter. Wearing just knickers and a T shirt belonging to him. 

Making tea. 

Emerging from the bedroom, starkers, he mussed a hand absentmindedly through his hair. 

Turning on hearing his footstep, she gave a smile at the sight of him that made him stop in his tracks. 

"Tea?" 

"Yeah....please......it feels warm in here......"

"I put some money in the meter."

"Oh...."

Chris looked embarrassed. 

"......you didn't have to."

"You need to take better care of yourself Chris.....and no....." she saw the instant change in his face.  
"I don't mean I'm going to lecture you.....but you take too many pills....you live _TOO_ close to the edge...it's dangerous. You could get hurt, and I wouldn't want that to happen....not to you.....you're too nice." 

Slipping his arms around her waist, he lay his cheek against her shoulder blades. 

"No ones ever cared about me like that." He murmured. "After Peter died, my parents were too bound up in their grief to really notice what I was doing. So I figured it didn't really matter. Life was short. Live it to the max. I guess I didn't care what happened to me, because no one else did." 

She turned herself awkwardly in his embrace. 

"I care Chris." She kissed him. "I care what happens to you, okay?"

Resting his head against her, as a child might, he gave a deep sigh. 

"Thanks Jal. I love you." He said quietly. 

oOo

The classroom felt uncomfortably hot. 

Thoughts were tumbling through his head as if he were about to be placed on trial. 

Mark Jenkins had the impression that it was not his errant son facing the music over some dreadful misdemeanour, but himself. 

Back in time. 

He'd always been a hard worker at school, rarely landing in trouble. Painfully quiet and shy. In terror of authority.  
Probably as a result of the all encompassing overlordship of his dominating father. 

It was odd, but the room smelled the same.

Just as he remembered when he was at school.

Surely it shouldn't, he mused. Back then it'd been chalk boards, bottles of Quink ink and fountain pens. Erasers and leather satchels.  
Now it was wipe boards, computers, projection screens.  
The desk beneath his elbow wasn't made of solid dependable wood, with an inkwell and a lid that lifted. It was a minimalist melamine top with metal legs, accompanied by a pre shaped, lightweight, grey plastic chair. 

_Yet it did_. 

The aroma was distinctive. Bringing all these uncomfortable memories flooding back. 

Mark jammed a finger down between his collar and the skin of his neck, pulling at it with a grimace. 

Last time he came here, Liz was at his side. It wasn't so very long ago. Somehow he'd expunged it from his consciousness. Chiefly because he, (and, little did he know it, Sid too) felt that it was the beginning of everything going irredeemably wrong.  
Up to that point Mark firmly believed that his marriage was salvageable, he believed that he and Liz had a future. 

After that day he did not. 

The relationship was irretrievable. Dead. Their differences were made so blatantly clear that Mark knew there was no way back.

Now, beside him, Sid huffed and shuffled. Woolly hat compressed onto his head. Hands in his pockets. Legs stretched out in front of him. Diffident. Resigned to his fate.  
In stark contrast, his parent sat forwards. Forearms on the table, with his hands clasped together, the long fingers interlocked in front of him.  
Where Sid lolled, minutely examining his trainers, Mark sat ramrod straight, looking all around him like a rabbit in the headlights.  
_Walls, window, clock, wipe board._ Eyes flitting from one object to another. Taking it all in.  
Fidgeting as if he were about to be subjected to the thumb-screw.

He almost jumped out of his skin when the door opened and Ms Driscoll entered behind him. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting." 

She spoke apologetically, before taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk. 

"Hello......" It was the only word he managed. 

Like being hit by a bolt of lightning. 

Mark Jenkins was struck dumb. 

Literally. 

He gazed at the woman as if she were the first one he'd ever seen. 

Whether or not his face betrayed any emotion, he wasn't aware, nor did he much care. 

She began talking, the accent distinctly Geordie, he could see her lips moving, but she might as well have been speaking Dutch......he couldn't take in the words. 

Up until this moment, Liz had been the only woman he'd ever really fancied. 

He knew from the word go that she was the one.  
It was simple as that.  
Since that time he'd never so much as looked at another woman. He didn't need to. Everything he wanted was right there. At his side.  
He married her. 

Mark swallowed thickly. 

Now, he took in this total stranger seated rather primly in front of him. 

Every detail. 

Transfixed. 

Mouth agape. Eyes unblinking.

A dazed codfish. 

Her hair was shoulder length with a slight fringe.  
Fair, glossy. It brushed her neck appealingly when she moved her head.  
Eyebrows plucked neatly but not fiercely, so that they looked natural.  
Darkish brown eye shadow, a little mascara but not too much. Beautiful hazel eyes.  
He guessed she was around thirty-five, although it was difficult to tell.  
Skin flawless, a smattering of foundation, lipstick understated, suitable for day wear in a school situation, nothing heavily applied or over the top.  
A pretty mouth which, he considered, might smile readily given the opportunity. 

Tastefully dressed, in smart linen trousers and a crew neck jumper, with a string of contrasting beads around her neck.  
Slim, around five six, give or take.  
Zip sided boots with a low heel. 

There was a subtle waft of perfume from her, something light and floral, but most pleasant. 

Her voice quiet soft, but with a definite edge of the authority required to be a teacher of adolescents. 

"Dad! _DAD!_ " 

Sid's insistent voice broke into his thoughts and made him jerk upwards with surprise, as the sounds all around him, the room and his offspring, suddenly came back into focus. 

"Are you awlright Mr Jenkins?" 

She was leaning forward slightly, her hands resting on the table in front of him. Small, neat hands with nicely french polished nails.  
A signet ring and a gold ring with a stone on her middle finger, but no wedding band he noticed. Institinctively he touched his own wedding ring finger, where his plain gold band still sat. 

That was the last unconscious thought Mark had before reality snapped him back into the room. 

"I, er.......sorry......." He felt extremely hot. Especially around the neck. His hands strayed to his collar without really realising it, pulling at his tie to loosen it. 

"Would you like some water?" She was beginning to rise, looking concerned now. 

"No, no! I'm....um.....I'm fine. Sorry......I was a little.....er......I lost it there for a second.....forgive me." 

He was floundering now. Embarrassed. Flustered beyond measure. 

Sid was watching him with a mixture of anxiety and astonishment. Leaning away as if his father had suddenly contracted bubonic plague, and he was in danger of becoming infected. 

It took every ounce of effort Mark Jenkins possessed to collect himself, calm his breathing and return to some semblance of normality. 

"Sorry! I think it's the heating in here.....I suddenly felt a bit woozy. I'm quite alright now. Let's get to the matter in hand shall we? I understand Sid hasn't handed an assignment in on time?"

Ms Driscoll sat back, regarding him sceptically, as if she was unsure of the robustness of his health.

Sid, convinced that his parent was undergoing some form of epileptic fit, did the same. 

"Shall we carry on?" His Dad insisted. "I'm fine now." 

Giving his son a hard glare, he then looked pointedly back at the teacher, holding her gaze unflinchingly, trying to convince them both without words that he was in command of himself once more. 

"Right. Yes. Of course....." Ms Driscoll tucked her hair behind one ear, opening a file on the desk in front of her. "....I wanted to talk to you both in the first instance, then perhaps you and I could have a chat Mr Jenkins? There's a few things I wanted to discuss with you." 

oOo

As Sid Jenkins left the room, head bowed, with a hangdog expression, he felt as if he'd been released from prison after serving a long stretch.  
Seating himself in the corridor outside the classroom with a puff of relief, as he waited for his Dad. 

Well, it hadn't gone as badly as he'd expected.  
No ranting.  
In fact it was all rather calm and businesslike.  
Plus, he won a reprieve. Result!  
Now all he had to do was complete the coursework and hand it in. 

Meanwhile, inside, his father faced the firing squad.  
Or at least that's what it felt like. 

"What was it you wanted to discuss?" 

Ms Driscoll thought that this man seated opposite her looked so on edge that he might explode at any moment, either into tears or rage, she wasn't sure which. 

The startlingly bluey green eyes that stared back at her looked almost fearful, yet filled with pain.  
She watched him run his long fingers through the thick greying mat of hair distractedly for the umpteenth time, as if he might lose his reason.  
From the moment she'd entered the room she could see he was struggling. It didn't take a genius to work that out.  
Several times during the conversation with him and her pupil, she was convinced he would break down.  
But he didn't. 

Somehow. 

Now that Sid was gone, he looked completely desolate. Cornered.  
Grey almost, both with weariness, and with the effort of holding himself together. 

Keeping her voice kindly, she spoke again. 

"I just wanted to ask if everything was awlright for Sidney at home? Only he has been very quiet, withdrawn and subdued since I've been teaching him, and it's at odds with the notes left me by my predecessor, his class work has suffered, as well as his homework, mind." 

The eyes that met hers then were moist. 

"Don't be too hard on him." He replied, wringing his hands together. "His mother's left him.....us.....a month or so ago, it's affected him more than I could have guessed. He's angry, hurt and confused.  
Not surprising really I suppose."

"Ah. I see. I'm very sorry Mr Jenkins.....for both of you....." 

Mark looked up, their eyes met again. 

"It's my fault. All of it." Came the response with a shrug of contrition. "I'm an idiot. Sid's taken the brunt of it all. You know his girlfriend tried to kill herself too.....?" 

"Aye, I did. Cassandra, isn't it?" 

"Yeah. She's a sweet girl but troubled......"

"And I believe he is best friends with Tony Stonem too?" 

"Yeah. Liz and I.....I mean, we know Jim and Anthea.....years.....the two boys grew up together....it's been hard......"

"An awful lot for a young man to deal with, pet."

"Yeah. It is....I guess. I never really thought......"

The young woman gave him a little reassuring smile. 

"He needs support Mr Jenkins.....as much as we can all give him.....it's his future we're discussing. It's important to get through this year and come out with some decent grades.....I'm sure you can understand that?" 

The sorrow in the face of the man almost made her want to rise, walk around the desk, and gather him into a hug......she didn't......but she had the sudden urge to do so.  
It surprised even her. 

"Sometimes we find strength we never knew we possessed." She continued gently. "We keep going no matter how bleak things seem....."

"Yeah.....yeah. We do." He was staring at the wall just over her right shoulder. Detached, barely listening, as if deep in thought. 

"Well, I don't think there's any more to say. But I'm here if you need to discuss anything further Mr Jenkins....just ring reception and make an appointment. I try to be available for both students and their parents whenever possible, especially if there are particular circumstances. As is the case here." 

Pushing back the chair with a scrape that caused Mark to jolt, she stood, stretching forth her hand. 

He in turn, rose also. Taking her fingers in his own. 

For one split second she had the crazy notion that he was going to bring them to his lips and kiss them, as he bent himself forwards slightly, almost in reverence. 

He didn't, just squeezing lightly then letting them fall. 

Smoothing his rumpled jacket, before backing slowly away. 

"Thank you Ms Driscoll." He murmured. "For your candour. And for your discretion......it's appreciated. I'll try harder.....I promise." 

She was shocked at his words. As if he were the naughty child. As if every single thing was weighing down his shoulders. As if all Sid's problems were laid squarely on him. 

"Mr Jenkins! _Howay man_.......don't reproach yourself. There's no one person to blame here, pet. Things happen. Life becomes complicated. People split up all the time, people are taken ill all the time, or have crises......we have to deal with them as best we can and keep going. Hope for better things.....Sid's a canny lad......"

To her surprise, Mark Jenkins smiled. 

It lit up his entire face. 

Ms Driscoll felt the most peculiar lurch low in her stomach. 

"He is that. Thank you again......" He whispered, his hand on the door handle. "......just......thank you."

Sid levered himself to standing as he saw his father emerge, wiping perspiration from his brow with the back of his hand as he did so.

"Let's get home.....I'm exhausted." He breathed, pulling on Sid's sleeve to tug him along. 

"What the fuck happened in there Dad?"

"I'm not quite sure......"

"I thought you were gonna pass out or have a friggin' heart attack or something." 

"Felt a bit like that to me too...... _weird_....." They were hurrying along the corridor now. 

"You were fucking ages." His son complained. "Were you talking about me the whole time?"

"Pretty much."

"About how fucking useless I am.....?"

Mark stopped dead. Turning to face his boy. 

"No son. About how fucking _great_ you are. How strong you've been to put up with all the shit around you these last months and held it together at all.....and how it's, frankly, amazing that the _ONLY_ thing you've not managed is handing in your coursework....now let's get on home....I need a bloody cup of tea!"


	6. Sid and Maxxie.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sid is out celebrating. He and Maxxie encounter some trouble.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I'm quite a fan of kick-ass women. I'm a bit fed up of media portrayals of us girls as weak and feeble wallflowers, who are only good for being decorative, hoovering and childbirth! 
> 
> So, Marnie is tough. But she's been trained in certain situations, so she knows what she's about. 
> 
> It's a bit of a wake up call, both for Mark and for Marnie. Mark is acutely aware of the mess in his home, and that a stranger should see it. Being there to give his son a cuddle is a bit of an epiphany, but a good one. For Marnie, her second meeting with Mark confirms one thing.....she likes him. 
> 
> As a side note, I love Walter Oliver. He was played in the show by Bill Bailey, who I think is just brilliant, just such an eccentric, off the wall character. Perfect.

EPISODE SIX.  
SID AND MAXXIE.

Celebrations were in order. 

Sid had completed his assignment over the course of a week. Handed it in.  
He was, even though he said so himself, pleased with it. 

A whole week of being in. 

Cassie came round to sit with him a few times.  
It would have been so easy to become distracted. To lie on the bed with her, instead of typing away on his computer.  
But she was firm. 

"Get on with it Sid. I'm just here to make you some tea and keep you company."

"Aren't I even allowed a kiss?" 

"You may have one......then, you get working!" She smiled, her strictness fading. 

From time to time she'd disappear downstairs, returning with a mug or a sandwich, trailing a hand across his shoulder as she placed it beside him.  
She wasn't aware of it perhaps, but her presence was calming. Far from being a distraction, just knowing she was there, grounded him.  
He'd ask her the cadence of a sentence, discuss a point with her, and she'd give him valuable and valid responses. Making him think anew. Or rethink completely. 

Not complicated. Mundane. Ordinary. A peaceful normality. It was wonderful.

From time to time he'd glance up at her, sitting cross-legged on his bed. She would be engrossed. Reading a book or perhaps sketching in a little pad she had with her. Her tongue poking out as she concentrated.  
Her father was artistic and so was she. 

An aesthete. 

A willo-the-wisp. 

Fragile and beautiful. 

Sid got his head down, thrashed out another paragraph. 

Most times when she ventured down to the kitchen, Mark would be sitting in front of a wildlife documentary or a cop show.  
Slumped there. Staring vacantly at the screen. No lamps switched on. Just the flickering of the television reflected in his eyes in the semi darkness. 

Moving quietly, she would turn on the table lamp, or the standard behind the sofa. Mark would barely register her presence. 

She'd make him a drink too. Placing it on the little table by the arm of his chair. 

He'd look up as if surprised to see her. 

"Oh, hi Cassie." 

"There's a tea there for you Mr Jenkins. I was making one for Sid....."

"Ta." 

Well, at least he wasn't drinking. That seemed to have stopped.  
Still smoking though, the cigarette burning low before he finally stubbed it out. 

There was still unironed washing hanging around the place on coathangers, but at least laundry was being done and there were clean clothes to wear.  
Even if the items were only ironed one at a time, when they were required to be worn.  
The sink was still full of dirty washing up and the place was still a bit of a tip.  
Cassie could quite easily have set to and dealt with it.  
But she held back. It wasn't her place. And besides....the two men needed to sort this out for themselves. Becoming their skivvy was not going to help them. It wasn't her allotted task in life to replace Sid's mother or Marks wife.  
The easy thing would be to clear the shit up.......the hard thing was to leave it. 

Cassie left it. 

oOo 

The pub was heaving. 

Pretty much everyone was there. There was an atmosphere of freedom. Of being let loose.

At least for Sid. 

Cassie came to his side, taking his arm. 

"I'm going home with Jal and Chris.....I've got an early start tomorrow..."

Sid was decidedly squiffy. Maxxie was hanging on his other arm.....equally rat arsed. 

Reaching around him, she kissed him sweetly. 

"See you tomorrow?" She smiled as he nodded dumbly, trying his best to focus on her face. 

"Wow Sid, you're totally hammered!" 

"Think I'll go home too." He slurred. "You comin' Max?"

"Sounds like a good plan." His friend replied blearily. 

Once outside in the street the cold air hit them. 

"Fucking hell.....it's freezing." Maxxie pulled his jacket up around his chin. 

Standing by the kerb, watching with a wide grin as Sid and Cassie proceeded to eat each other's faces by way of a goodbye kiss. 

"Christ Sid.....you'll reach her tonsils in a minute....." he giggled drunkenly, as the pair re-emerged from the clinch, flushed and breathless.  
It was now perfectly obvious that Sid was hard, and this Maxxie found most amusing in his inebriated state. 

However, once separated, this state of arousal soon deflated. The chill air saw to that. 

The two set off to traverse the City Centre, heading for the bus station. 

oOo

Rounding the corner by TopShop it was Sid who first noticed the group of youths standing in a little knot in the shop doorway. 

Instinctively he sensed trouble. 

Maxxie was beside him, their shoulders touching. Lurching along unsteadily. 

"Fuck!" He hissed under his breath. Clutching Maxxie's sleeve. 

"Wha'sup....." 

"Let's turn back.....cut round behind Debenhams....." Sid whispered urgently. 

It was too late. 

They'd been spotted. 

Within seconds they were surrounded by a gang of five. 

"Where you fucking goin' homo?" 

Maxxie didn't answer, he just stared at the group as they jostled closer. 

"Look....we're just going to the bus station.....leave us alone....." Sid ventured. 

A hand was placed firmly on his lapel. 

"You can shut the fuck up....what are you, his bum chum...?"

Pushing away his assailant Sid regrouped, he was not a fighter, nor could he hope to take on five strong males. 

Maxxie, he knew, could run fast.....drunk or not, but he'd soon be left behind.....caught and beaten to a pulp.  
There was no escape. 

"For fucks sake! What's your problem? Just let us go on our way for crying out loud." 

A livid face was pushed right into his own. Close. So that he could smell the beery breath. 

"You are a ponce and a knob jockey.....and we are going to teach you both a lesson." He growled menacingly. 

Fingers closed around his bollocks, squeezing. 

Sid folded in the middle, in an attempt to get away. Crying out in pain. 

It was that moment that Maxxie chose to launch himself, pulling off the ringleader, one arm clamped around his throat. 

A scuffle broke out, as his mates all piled in. It was a fight they were never going to win. 

Punches and kicks rained down. 

Maxxie and Sid were in serious trouble. 

oOo

Marnie Driscoll wiped her sweaty face with a towel. 

Her best friend and colleague, Judy, swept her hair back into a clip and nudged her mate. 

"Fancy a quick glass of Pinot?" 

"Oh....I dunno....undo all the work of an hour's Zumba?" 

"Ah, c'mon.....one won't hurt.....live dangerously."

"G'wan then! Howay.....but I'm driving, so it'll only be the one.....lead the way hinny. I'm right behind yer!" 

The two women headed for the pub next door. Arm in arm. Laughing as they walked. 

"Glad it's bloody Friday......roll on the weekend!"

The Red Lion was full, so they had to fight their way to the bar. 

Judy waved a tenner hopefully. Catching the barman's eye. 

The one drink turned into a long and in depth conversation which basically put the entire world to rights!  
Ensconced in a small cosy corner, glass of wine and a packet of cheese and onion each. 

Last of the big spenders! 

Glancing at her watch, Judy frowned. 

"I gotta go! Jim said he'd put the kids to bed, but he'll wait up for me, bless him. I'll text him to say I'm on my way." 

Their cars were side by side in the car park at the back of the gym. 

Farewells completed, Marnie was on her way home, deciding to cut through the City Centre. 

It was whilst sitting at the red light that she noticed the altercation. 

A group of guys, all laying into two others. She could see one on the ground, legs tucked into a foetal position, arms up to protect his head. 

She didn't think twice. Pulling into a lay-by. 

"OI! YOU LOT! What the hell do you think you're doin'?"

The gang ceased, as one. Pausing, fists raised. All staring up in the direction of the voice. 

"Fuck off bitch or you'll get it too....." 

Marnie didn't stop walking purposefully across the precinct towards them. 

"Doesn't seem like a very fair fight lads. Five against two......" 

"I said......butt OUT!" 

The ring leader walked towards her menacingly. The others standing by, watching to see what would play out. Grins on their faces. 

"You want some action love......that it? C'mere then....." 

To his surprise, the woman smiled. 

"Eee, I grew up around lads like you pet. You don't frighten me." 

When the lunge came, it seemed she just stepped effortlessly aside. Out came her leg, just behind his knees, and he was on his back before he even knew what had happened. Like a felled tree.  
Head connecting painfully with the pavement. Dazed, winded and unable to rise. 

The woman looking down at him, still smiling. 

"Way-aye pet, you need to watch yourself. You've fallen over." 

She looked across at the rest of the group. 

"The odds are better now. Three against four......but just so you know, I'm an ex copper.....and whilst four of yers could probably eventually take me, I'd lay odds on me damaging at least two of you in the process. So, what's it gonna be lads, eh?"

Her eyes were hard as flint. Glancing from one face to another. Maxxie thought she looked like a coiled spring, ready to pounce. Sid thought she was fucking magnificent. 

Weighing up the chances, the four scarpered. Leaving their mate lying inert on the concrete.

"Ah." She said, quietly. "Discretion the better part of valour." As she watched them scatter. 

oOo

Maxxie's nose was bleeding heavily. He was bruised and battered but otherwise relatively unscathed. Sid sported a massive shiner. His ribs painfully sore.

Ms Driscoll helped them both to their feet. 

"You awlright pet? Hey....don't I know you.....it's Maxwell isn't it? Oh.....and Sid......"

"Crikey." Maxxie breathed. "You're like bloody Wonder Woman." 

The teacher laughed heartily. 

"Seven years of trainin' luv. Learning how to deal with scum like them." She nodded towards the leader, who was only now picking himself up, before shuffling away meekly. His posse and back up gone.

"See, not so valiant when he's on his own." She remarked. 

Wiping a hand under his nose, Maxxie looked at it with disgust. 

"For fucks sake!"

"Let's get you to the car. I'll drop you both home.....unless you need A&E?" 

"I'll live...." The young man replied. "....but you don't have to.......we'll be fine now."

"Don't be daft. I'm taking you both home. Come on Sid, let me help you." 

She threaded her arm around Sid's back, holding him upright. He clutched at his chest, gasping in pain. 

"You sure you're okay?" She enquired, bending forwards to look at him more closely.

"Yeah. I'll be good in a minute.....thanks for doing this Miss....." 

oOo

When Walter Oliver opened his front door at the ring of the bell, he got quite a shock. 

His offspring, blooded and bowed, in the company of a strange woman. 

Taz, the collie sniffed her legs warily, then, deciding she was acceptable, wagged his tail enthusiastically. 

"What the......? Christ son, what the hell happened to you?" 

"Dad, this is Miss Driscoll......she's my teacher. She saved us."

Maxxie's mum, Jackie, came hurrying down the hallway. 

"Oh my God! Max......"

Drawing her boy inside, holding a hand under his bleeding nose. 

"Come on, lets take a proper look at you......" 

Walter stepped back from the threshold, as his son was led away. 

"Won't you come in? I'll put the kettle on....." 

The flat looked comfortable, homely and inviting, a place of love and safety. 

Ms Driscoll smiled. 

"It's very kind of you pet, but I've got Sid Jenkins sitting in the car, and I need to get him home too...." 

"Good god! Is he okay?"

"Aye. Just a black eye and dented pride I think.....it was fortunate I was passing....."

"Well I can't thank you enough for bringing him home.....really......"

Mr Oliver followed the young woman out onto the balcony. Looking over the parapet and down to the car park below. 

The two shook hands cordially. 

"No doubt he'll tell you what happened.....I'll be on my way. Goodnight Mr Oliver."

"Thank you so much again."

oOo

Sid laid his head against the leather rest, closed his eyes.....or rather his eye, since the left one was closed already. 

The street lights were an orange blur, and he felt sick. Although he was sure that it was more from the effects of the skinful of booze and the punch he'd taken to the stomach, rather than anything else. 

"Nearly there Sid." Said a quiet voice beside him. "You awlright?"

Sid nodded, but was unable to speak, suddenly overwhelmingly emotional. 

Another fucking disaster. Something else to worry his dad about. His entire life had become a car crash lately. Nothing he ever did was right. When would things be normal again? When would things stop happening to him? 

By the time the two walked up the front path, there were tears spilling down his face. 

He just couldn't hold them back any more. 

It was probably a mixture of shock as well as the unprovoked attack. 

The light was on in the lounge. Curtains drawn. 

Sid let himself in with his own key. 

The nausea was rising, and he staggered slightly. Holding onto the wall. 

A firm arm was placed around his waist. 

"Come on, let's get you inside, if your Dad's not in I'll make some tea." 

"He'll be there. He never goes out....." came the gasped reply.

Sid prayed silently that his father wasn't sitting there the worse for drink. As they entered the living room together, the man looked up from where he rested on the sofa, legs up, television playing quietly. 

The stark contrast to Maxxie's warm and friendly home, struck the teacher sharply. 

The place seemed cold and unwelcoming. Mess everywhere. Clothes on hangers around the dado rail.  
Newspapers. Full ash trays. Cups with dregs of tea or coffee.  
Her eyes scanned the room in pity, before fastening themselves on the man. 

Mark Jenkins. 

Out of his suit, collar and tie. 

As if stripped of his protective armour. 

In a T shirt and draw string bottoms. Bare foot.  
Sober at least.  
Five o clock shadow on his chin. He looked tired and vulnerable. 

Jumping up in a startled fright as they entered. 

"Sid! What the....? I was just away to ma bed....."

In reply Sid separated himself from the supporting arm, made a dash for the kitchen sink, and threw up. 

The young woman followed closely behind him. 

"He's been beaten up." She said, by way of a hurried explanation, as she brushed passed his astonished dad. 

Running the tap, she wetted a cloth, placing it on the back of Sid's neck. Leaning over him. She was calm, businesslike. In control. 

A string of drool came from his mouth and he retched some more, clutching his stomach, although nothing more came out. 

"It's awlright Sid. Let it come up.....you'll be right as ninepence in a bit...." 

Her hand circled then patted his back, as Mark entered behind her, dumbfounded with shock. Rendered speechless, seemingly unable to comprehend what was happening. As if in question, his hands held out, palms up, a gesture which said _'what the hell is going on.'_

"You're Ms Driscoll......" The words were uttered as if they were the most ludicrous he could possibly think of. Scratching his head in evident confusion. 

"Aye. Call me Marnie. It's me name." A pause. "And you are......?"

Mark hesitated, as if he'd completely forgotten. 

"Mark.....I'm Mark....." 

More gripes hit Sid and he heaved again. Groaning. He was crying now, an upwelling of feeling that he could no longer control.

Marnie turned her attention back to him. 

"That's it lad....get rid....." She said gently. "Let it go."

Looking over her shoulder, she smiled reassuringly at the father. Hovering there. Unsure of what to do or say. 

"Mark, pet....d'you think you can find us a bowl, and perhaps a paper towel.....and pop the kettle on....hmmm?"

Mechanically he did as he was told. 

Then, inexplicably, he began tidying, piling up the dirty crocks, placing them to one side. Mumbling to her as he did so. 

"The place is a mess, sorry, I've no had time to clear up today......"

It was abundantly clear to Marnie that it was a hell of a lot longer than one day since the kitchen, or anywhere else, had been cleaned. But she let it go.  
A hand was laid lightly on his arm, stilling his movement, as Sid continued to snivel behind them. 

"Listen Mark, don't worry about that.....how about you see to your lad.....while I make us a brew eh? I think it's you he really needs right now....." 

Their eyes met, Marnie cocked a glance over her shoulder to where Sid leaned, head still over the sink, blubbing now, fit to burst, as all the anguish of the last months poured out. 

It was as if a sudden epiphany hit. 

Dazed, but with realisation dawning, the father nodded. Moving passed the young woman and taking his son by the shoulders.  
Turning him. 

"It's alright son....c'mere to me......" 

Enveloping him with his arms. 

Sid broke. 

For the first time since he'd been on the beach with Michelle. 

"Dad! Oh Dad....." 

A wave crashing on the rocks. Heaving a mixture of squeaks and gasping sobs, sucking in breath after breath. Burying his head into his parent's chest.  
Guiding him gently to the sofa, the two men sat down together.  
The elder comforting the younger.  
Holding him close. Rubbing him soothingly. Speaking in that soft Glaswegian tone. 

"It's okay.....I'm here......I'm here for you son......"

It was some moments before either chanced to look up.

The fair haired lass, peering down at them kindly. A mug of tea in each hand. 

Perching herself on the edge of the armchair opposite. Her fingers curled around her own steaming cup. 

Her face radiated gentle concern. 

Sid collected himself, pulling away from his dad a little. Sniffing. Embarrassed. Pushing his specs up onto his head. Wiping his face with the paper towel.  
Both father and son regarding the teacher as if she were an angel of mercy. 

"Thanks......." He whispered. 

"Eee. It's awlright pet......but I think we need to bathe that eye......it's looking nasty......"

oOo

Seated on a dining chair in the kitchen. 

Head back.

A cold compress, made with ice cubes in a plastic bag wrapped in a tea towel, held to his swollen face. 

Mark leaning over at her elbow, his brow furrowed with worry. 

"If you're sick again, you'll have to go to A&E....you can't take chances with a whack to the head...." Marnie frowned, as she examined the damage. 

"I'll keep a close eye on him." Mark replied, one hand resting on his son's shoulder. 

The look that passed between the two adults was not one that Marnie could put an adequate adjective to.  
It was one of plaintive helplessness, mixed with a deep sorrow, a man grieving, but hiding a definite spark of something that she couldn't, or refused to, recognise. Her stomach gave that odd skip again, just as it had in the classroom.  
She found it difficult to look away. 

"Then I'll away home...." She managed eventually. "......it's been quite a night......"

"Thanks Miss.......you were pretty amazing......." Sid blurted, as she turned to leave. 

"I'll see you out......" 

Leaving his boy, Mark followed her along the hallway to the street door. 

"I'm in your debt." He began. 

"Nah....nonsense! Just lucky I was passing.....coulda been nasty.....bloody scumbags, the lot of them." 

"Nevertheless.......I don't know how to thank you......" Mark shuffled uncomfortably, making to thrust his hands into his pockets, before realising his trousers had none.  
Leaving his hands with nowhere to go. So he folded his arms across his chest defensively. 

In all the excitement over what had happened, he had pushed aside the memory of his initial meeting with 'Ms Driscoll', in the classroom, now it flooded back and he was suddenly extremely aware. Painfully self conscious all over again. 

"Sorry about the state of the place......" He shrugged apologetically. It was all he could think of to say, and he was deeply ashamed. Both of himself and his home. 

Her look was kindly. Reassuring. 

"Mess can be cleared up Mark.....it's no big deal. It's you and Sid that are more important. That's more difficult to put to rights. But hey.....you've made a start.....and that's a good thing.....and now I'll bid you goodnight." 

The two adults hesitated. 

Neither sure of quite how to manage the actual moment of parting. 

Mark stretched out a hand, laying it on her arm.

"Thank you." He said quietly. Squeezing slightly. "Goodnight."

Marnie looked down at his fingers for several seconds. Taking them in. Neat nails, bony knuckles. Little veins on the back of the hand. 

"Night Mark." She smiled. 

Mark Jenkins thought that he'd never in his life seen a smile more lovely. 

oOo

Maxxie was not in class on Monday morning. 

Nor was Sid. 

At lunchtime Marnie went down to the secretary's office. Asked her to look up the number of the Oliver household.

She punched the digits with the end of her pencil. 

Jackie answered. 

"Hiya. It's Marnie Driscoll. I was just phoning to ask about Maxwell." 

"How kind of you." Came the reply. "I took him to the Doctor's surgery in the end. I wondered if his nose was broken, but luckily it isn't. He advised him to have a couple of days off. He's still a bit bruised. But otherwise fine, he's just sitting here enjoying being pampered!"

The teacher laughed. 

"Well that's good pet, as long as he's okay." 

She rang off and looked up the next number. 

No landline. Just a mobile. 

She dialled it, but it went to answerphone. 

"You have reached the phone of Mark Jenkins at Winslow and Harrison. He cannot take your call right now, please leave your name and number after the tone and he'll get back to you." 

The voice wasn't his, it was a 'Received Pronunciation' generic BT voice. 

Marnie found herself inexplicably disappointed. 

However, she left a brief message, rang off and went in search of a well earned sandwich. 

It was not until the end of the school day that she received quite a surprise. 

The class filed out with sullen expressions, due to the fact she'd just set them homework. Sitting back in her chair, she let out a puff of relief that the day was over and had been relatively successful. 

Stacking her papers, shuffling them together, gathering her handbag, coat and scarf, she left the classroom, flicking out the lights as she reached the door. 

Turning, to traverse the corridor, she stopped dead. 

There he was. 

Mark Jenkins. 

Standing there awkwardly. Half leaning against the opposite wall. 

He looked terrified, like he was waiting outside the headmaster's office to receive the cane.......only fortified by the fact he was wearing his suit. 

Not the tan brown one, but navy. Which, Marnie immediately noticed, suited him so much better. 

His eyes were wide and alert. As if he were ready to ward off a blow. 

Clutched under his arm was a bunch of flowers. 

"Mark? What are you d......" 

He came forwards, looking apologetic. But purposeful. Holding out the bouquet. Yellow roses. 

"These are for you." 

Marnie was so taken aback, she was, for a moment, lost for words. 

"That's very......um....."

"Don't you like them?" He was back pedalling now, furiously. The disappointment washing across his face. Becoming red and flustered as she watched him. Beginning to diminish, as if he would crawl away into a hole, or the floor would open beneath his feet. 

"They're beautiful. Thank you." Her smile was wide and encouraging, as she buried her nose in the floral depths and sniffed appreciatively. 

It seemed to give him hope, and he smiled shyly back. 

"They're to say a proper thank you.....from me and Sid......for what you did......it's just that words didn't seem enough somehow....." 

"That's very sweet. How is he?" 

"Sore. And pretty miserable. Until I told him he could have a couple of days off school. Cassie's been round this afternoon, to tend to his every need.....that cheered him up....." 

The bluey green eyes twinkled mirthfully, as Marnie got the drift of what he was saying. 

She laughed in return. 

"I'll bet it did!" 

She paused. 

"And how are you?" She enquired, staring pointedly down at the flowers. 

"Me?" He seemed taken aback that she'd asked. Unsure of what to say. 

"I'm alright." 

She glanced up at his face then. His eyes said more than his mouth ever could. He was far from alright. But wouldn't admit it, not to himself or her, not to anyone. 

"I'm taking some time off work. Got some holiday owing......thought it might be a good idea. Sort myself out....." the sentence petered out and was left hanging, unfinished. 

"That's very sensible." 

His eyebrows raised up, disappearing almost into his hair line. 

"Is it? Well I hoped I could spend a bit of time at home.....with Sid.....you know......" 

"Yes. I do know. And it's a good idea. Well done you....." Then she checked herself with a loud tut. 

"......sorry, that sounded really patronising.....it wasn't meant to be. Sorry pet." 

"Not at all.....I er.....well.....I'd better be....." Mark gestured towards the doorway. 

"Of course! Me too. Gotta get home. I've got a load of marking to wade through!" She sniffed the flowers again.  
"Thank you for these....it's a lovely thought. Much appreciated. Roses are my very favourite flowers." 

Mark suddenly looked ridiculously pleased. 

"Really? Oh.....well, that's.....that's great......I'll er.......see you then......" 

He was backing away as he spoke, wringing his hands together. 

Somehow she couldn't help it, he made her smile. 

There was a sweetness about him. A fragility. He wasn't a tough guy, that was clear, on the contrary, he seemed gentle. It was that certain whisper of pregnability to him that pulled her in. 

Then there was that smile.  
It lit up his entire face. 

Sid was the same. He looked melancholy at the best of times, but when he smiled......well....it was devastating. 

"Bye Mark. Give my regards to Sid." 

"Aye. I will. Cheerio!" 

And he was gone. 

Just the echo of his footsteps hurrying away from her. 

Marnie Driscoll looked down at the bunch of flowers and shook her head. 

"Careful hinny!" She hissed to herself. "Just be fucking careful!"


	7. Marnie.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marnie Driscoll is going for a run, to clear her head and do some thinking......the day doesn't quite turn out as she'd anticipated.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a proper introduction and a bit of Marnie's back story. 
> 
> All geographical references in this chapter are real. 
> 
> The book 'When Marnie Was There' by Joan G Robinson was a book I read as a child after hearing it on Jackanory in the sixties. It was one I read over and over again. The name Marnie has always been in my head.
> 
> As I said before, Marnie isn't really based on anyone in particular.

EPISODE SEVEN.  
MARNIE. 

Marnie Driscoll drove out to Portishead. 

It was her favourite spot for running and thinking, a general place of well-being. 

Parking by the old Battery look-out point, she intended to head along the Esplanade, which formed a prom, then along the coast path which ran parallel with the Nore Road, jogging towards Redcliffe. 

The morning was bright, but a nip in the air. That was all to the good. 

Bracing and invigorating. 

Trainers laced tight, her phone strapped on her right arm, earphones in. 

Tying her fair hair into a ponytail, and tucking her car keys into a little zip up bum bag around her waist, she set off. 

The place reminded her a little of her home town. 

Instead of the great sweep of the Tyne or the North Sea coast where she loved to run along Whitley Bay, here, the River Severn flowed fast and furious. Funnelled up between the English and the Welsh coasts. Wide and glassy today. A perpetual tidal motion which was as unceasing as time itself. Dependable, sometimes unpredictable, but always there. 

The old Battery point was where the mouth of the River Avon began its tortuous journey towards Bristol. Winding its way along its valley through the city, then on to Bath and beyond. 

She liked Bath. It was a beautiful place. She often drove there to just steep herself in the Austenesque history of the surroundings. 

Finishing her preliminary stretches, she set off at a steady pace. 

Her mind lapsed almost immediately into deep thought. Only dimly aware of the rhythm of her feet beneath her, her breath controlled.  
Pony tail bobbing. 

A metronome, channelling her energy. Arms pumping, hands closed into fists. Sweat trickling down her face and neck, and between her shoulder blades.  
She was oblivious to it all as her thoughts were transported back to Tyneside.....

_Joe._

......she'd known him a while.  
They were at college, then Police Academy together.

Young and captivated. 

Others told her she was mad. A relationship with a colleague. Work and play......the two should never mix. 

But she was happy. Joe made her so. 

It seemed that they fitted together somehow. Two halves of the same whole. 

Soulmates was a clichéd word, but for them, it was spot on. 

In spite of all the scepticism, it worked. 

Moving in together was fun, even though they worked shifts. Sometimes they were ships that passed in the night. One coming in as the other was leaving to go to work.  
They had to strive hard to make time for each other, and they damn well did. 

Joe was a quiet soul. Unassuming. He was also ambitious and determined. One might say 'driven'.  
Wanted to try for CID. Marnie did all she could to encourage him. Backed him all the way. 

He worked so bloody hard to succeed. 

The day he was promoted to DS, she was so proud. 

Detective Sergeant. 

Still in uniform herself, she felt she too had more to give. A job she'd dedicated herself to and loved.  
Moving into plain clothes was a big step up the ladder.  
People admired the pair. 

They were very fortunate, they said. 

Strong relationship. Star-crossed lovers. A home. Work they both enjoyed. Almost too good to be true. 

And it was......

The day the call came in to the station, she knew. 

Straight away. 

Everything seemed to mute itself around her. 

The furtive looks from her colleagues. The hushed voices. Their sorrowful faces. Filled with horror, then with sympathy. 

Taken into an interview room by her superior officer. 

She could see his lips moving, knew he was speaking words. But they didn't seem to make sense. 

A million to one chance he was saying.

'Wrong place at the wrong time, pet.' 

Just rotten luck. 

Not a major incident in any way. Not a big show down or a heist. Barely made the headlines. 

Simply a young rake robbing a poxy 'One Stop' supermarket. He wanted money. He was desperate for a fix. 

Sweating......jumpy......and desperate.

The gun in his hand was just for show. Waved for effect. To scare, to intimidate. 

And there, in the frozen food aisle, stopping off on his way home for a bit of Birds Eye Paella, was DS Joe Wright.

Facing down the guy as he terrorised the poor lassie behind the counter. Arms held away from his body in a gesture of surrender.

 _'Now calm down lad. You're frightening the lady. This isn't the way. Put the gun down.....'_

Hadn't meant it. 

It just went off somehow. 

Didn't even know how it happened.

Hit square in the chest. 

Was dead before he hit the floor, they assured her. 

Wouldn't have suffered. 

But she'd never really know. If anything passed through his head in those final seconds. 

No time to think about her, _them_ , no time to say he loved her, or even goodbye. 

He just ceased to be. 

In a single moment. 

Marnie Driscoll's world came crashing down in that _'single moment'._

The months that followed were a blur. 

She hardly knew how she got herself up in the mornings. 

Carried on. 

Stoic.

Post Mortem. Coroner's Inquest. The funeral. Full honours.The bravery award. The support of the officers bereavement association. Then the trial. All passing in a gauzy haze. 

A young man with a blighted life, who ended the life of another. Two lives in fact. 

And for what? 

A couple of hours of forgetfulness. 

Although her life had not been physically wiped out, it most certainly ended as she knew it. 

For a while she struggled on. 

But inside she knew it couldn't continue. 

Going home to the place she and Joe had shared was torture. Keeping her mind on a job that required all of her energies was nigh on impossible. 

The numbness faded to be replaced by pain. 

Loss.

Emptiness.

She did not live, she merely continued. 

To her credit, she tried everything she could to help herself.... Doctor. Anti depressants. Counselling. Therapy. Exercise. Meditation. The lot. 

In the end it was change she realised she needed most. 

A fresh start. 

So she handed in her notice. Left the force. 

That was the beginning. 

The turning point. 

For a person who was used to serving in the community, he knew she had to find a new role which fulfilled her in the same way. Otherwise there was no point.  
This was her vocation.  
It was the reason she was placed on this earth. 

The thing that gave her life structure and meaning. 

So, she enrolled at Teacher Training College. Started all over again. 

Psychology. 

A subject at which she felt she excelled. Made her comfortable. It gave her a completely new focus.  
Turning her mind wholly onto a new subject. Pushing the past to the back of her brain.  
Instructing and nurturing young minds. 

At first she'd expected to stay in her home area, was offered a post in South Shields. She took it with some trepidation.

Turned out it was too close. Too raw. Constantly bumping into people who knew her....who knew Joe.  
They meant well. Asking after her. Dredging up old hurts. Wounds healing were constantly reopened. 

She felt unsettled and restless. 

When she saw the job advertised in Bristol, she didn't think twice. 

Applied the same day. 

Interviewed.

Nailed it. 

_Bam!_

Now here she was. 

Building a new life. Brick by brick. Clawing her way back. 

Now she had purpose. New friends. Pleasant friendly colleagues. A small but comfortable home. 

She had not destroyed her past completely. Keeping her photos, her bits that Joe had given her as presents.  
These were mementos of their life together. Treasured, but packed away.  
It wasn't about forgetting the past. She didn't want to do that.  
But what she did want, was to move on, constantly looking back was destructive, the past could not be changed.  
The future was an unknown quantity.

Somewhere, sandwiched between the two was _THE NOW._

This became her main focus. 

The now. 

So far she had avoided any form of relationship. Not necessarily by design. She just hadn't met anyone with whom she had that spark. That little flutter in her stomach that Joe used to give her. 

Throughout her teacher training course she'd remained resolutely single. A couple of guys had become closer than 'just friends' but before it got too serious she'd backed away. 

Not ready. 

Good friends told her that when she was......she'd know. 

There was no rush anyway. No timetable. She wasn't lonely, not intrinsically. 

A little solitary sometimes perhaps, but she could always find something to occupy her mind. 

It was only occasionally a problem, that at 36, many of the people she knew of a similar age were in couples.  
But there really wasn't much she could do about that. 

She was still able to have girl's nights out, she also enjoyed meeting up with her new mates even if there were kids in tow. She adored children.  
She would like her own. Refusing to dwell on the situation as if it were the be all and end all of life.  
If she didn't have them, well, too bad. 

Her life would be just as meaningful without. She'd make sure of it. 

Somehow she would make a difference. 

It was her goal. 

Teaching gave her that. 

She embraced and relished it. 

The working day was sometimes a cow-son. 

Sometimes euphorically rewarding. 

Always a challenge. 

Against all the odds she was happy again. Well, contented at least. 

Teenagers! 

Holy moly! 

So full of angst, and raging hormones. So complicated and unsure of themselves, whilst trying to appear confident. So very different from any other species! 

Everything they did was accomplished at break neck speed. 

Love. Life. Living. 

No time to stop and think. 

Just leap in, head first. Even though the water was less than a foot deep!.........

 

.......All this time her thoughts swirled, as she'd continued running. Now she was flushed and breathless. 

Her body full of those wonderful endorphins that strenuous exercise could bring. 

Gradually she slowed to a walk. Switching off her music. Pulling her earphones out and wrapping the dangling wire around her neck. 

Hands on hips, she took several deep lungfuls of sea air. 

Above her head the gulls wheeled and screamed. At home there were kittiwakes, not here though.  
They nested on ledges on the famous Tyne Bridge which linked the City to Gateshead. 

She'd been told that if you go over to Lundy Island on the little ferry boat, you could see puffins. 

She'd never seen puffins. 

One day she'd do it. 

One day. 

Narrowing her eyes she scanned the Bristol Channel, laid out before her. A vast body of sundering water.  
Soughing gently, soothingly, as the wind dropped away a little. 

Marnie seated herself on a convenient wooden bench. Sipping from her water bottle. Wiping her face on the hem of her T shirt. Legs stretched out in front of her. Jiggling with nervous energy.

She'd run further than she'd planned. 

Lost in her thoughts. 

They had propelled her onwards. 

Taking another puff of air into her lungs, she raised herself. Performed a few more halfhearted lunges and calf stretches, and began the long jog back. 

Now she was running into the breeze. 

Head down. 

Battling onwards. 

The greensward now on her right, the sea on her left.  
Passing beautifully planted flower beds. Fading now as the year waned. Dozens and dozens of rose bushes. 

All colours, but it was the yellow ones that caught her eye as she jogged passed. 

For some inexplicable reason her mind conjured a picture of Mark Jenkins. 

Standing there in the school corridor. 

Looking like a lost lamb. 

Clutching his bunch of flowers. 

Marnie found herself smiling again. 

_Mark Jenkins._

Sid's Dad......

What did she make of him?

God knew!! 

There was something about him, that was certain. 

His age, she guessed, doing the maths and knowing Sid was seventeen, had to be between forty and forty-five. 

Although she was of the firm belief that age was merely a number. 

His reaction to their first meeting had rather taken her by surprise.  
Why had he been so inexplicably flustered?  
For a moment she'd thought he was about to pass out. 

Once he'd recovered himself he could barely meet her eyes. Looking shiftily away from her and down at the desk top.  
Even Sid seemed nonplussed.  
Staring at him uncomprehendingly as he fidgeted, pulling at his collar. 

Marnie wasn't sure exactly what it was about him. 

He wasn't particularly devastating to look at. But he was certainly striking. 

Handsome in an odd way. 

That large nose. The shock of greying hair.  
Then there was the curious way his hands moved. Seldom still. Waving about, wringing together, long fingers fluttering. Exaggerated, almost flamboyant gestures.  
All this definitely attracted the attention, but none more than those eyes. 

Now _they _were something quite extraordinary.__

____

Hand on heart she would have said green. But on reflection she wasn't so sure. In some lights, yes, they were undoubtedly green. Almost the colour of the sea which she was currently running alongside.  
But in others they looked more blue, or even grey. 

They were eyes that a person remembered. 

Soft and kind, but intense, and with just a hint of melancholy. 

His whole mien generally was one of sadness. Disappointment. Loss. 

Hopelessly vulnerable. That in itself drew her in. The female instinct to mother, to offer succour. 

Somewhere, however, she sensed innate strength. She imagined that deep inside there was a man who ultimately, knew what he wanted, who could be brave and strong. One who's hopes and dreams had been dashed time and time again, and yet he was still here. Still trying.  
It was just that at the moment, he'd lost his way. 

So many blows he'd taken. Much like herself. Yet each time he struggled to his feet. Bruised and blooded, but unbowed.  
His wife leaving must have been a bitter pill to swallow. Hit him hard. Sid too.  
Marnie knew nothing of the circumstances but she gleaned enough to know Mark firmly blamed himself.  
In fact he blamed himself for everything. 

Not least the fortunes of his only son. 

It seemed to her that this was a trait. Something he was used to doing.  
Taking it on the chin. Shouldering the burden. Because he felt he deserved it. 

Yet she felt sure he was capable of giving a great deal. Intelligent. Hard working. If rather staid in his approach to life. 

Subconsciously Marnie berated herself. _Why was she even thinking about this man?_

No rhyme or reason why she should. 

And yet...... _and yet_.......that smile.......

That wonderful smile.......

The lurch she'd felt inside when seeing it. The way his face was transformed. 

A girl might go a long way to see a smile like that......

Reaching her car, Marnie leaned against it. Breathing hard. 

Well, she'd certainly given herself a workout this morning! 

Damp and sweaty. 

Towelling off as best she could, she laid the cloth on the car seat to protect it. 

Drive home, a shower, change, and then out to the shops. A bit of retail therapy would do her good. 

Take her mind from dwelling on thoughts centred around the parent of one of her students! 

oOo

The City Centre wasn't busy particularly. 

Toting several carrier bags she headed down the escalator at Marks and Spencer's, she decided to cut through their menswear department and out onto the second floor, where there was a nice coffee shop. 

There, to her surprise, carrying two packs of plain cotton boxers in varying colours, some navy socks, two shirts on hangers and a pale blue jumper was.....none other than Mark Jenkins! 

He'd spotted her before she could sneak passed and out of sight. There was nothing she could do now to avoid him. Taking the bull by the horns she ambled over. 

"Well, well......buying a new wardrobe?" She said with a smile. Peering at him through the racks of suits. 

It amused her to watch the hurricane of emotions sweep across his face. 

Shock. Embarrassment. Nervousness. Resignation. 

"Yeah....." He stammered, looking pointlessly down at the armful of clothes, then trying awkwardly to shift the pants underneath the socks out of her sight. 

"Me too!" Holding aloft her various bags as if to illustrate. 

"I hate clothes shopping." He admitted. "Liz always used to......." Stopping himself, he coloured at the cheeks. 

"Well, you seem to have done okay....I like the sweater......" 

Mark examined the article carefully, before looking back at her, as if to confirm she was in earnest. 

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't sure."

"Goes with your eyes." Her face was mirthful, and Mark wondered if perhaps she were subtly taking the piss. 

"Not sure about that shirt though....." She continued, unabashed. "Bit dated....."

A frown furrowed his forehead, a little vein running down the centre bulging out. 

"Ah." He gave a very slight smile, understanding. "You're making fun of me." 

Marnie's face changed instantly. 

"What? No pet! I would never.......I'm being honest. The jumper is nice.....the shirt? Meh.....not so keen.....it's a bit old for you, in my opinion.....not that you asked for my opinion.....and I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything....." 

Realising his mistake, Mark now started furiously backtracking. 

"Oh, I see....I'm sorry, I misunderstood.....I thought....well....never mind....it doesn't matter.....I'll put the shirt back then, choose another!" 

Laying a hand on his arm, Marnie stopped him. 

"You don't have to do that. If you like it, that's all that matters. I don't even know you! Let alone your taste in clothes! Don't go by my recommendation, for goodness sake!" 

Looking down at her hand as if it had no right to be there, then glancing up, their eyes met. 

"I got the wrong end of the stick." He muttered. "You were just trying to be friendly.....lighthearted..... sorry.....I'm not very good at banter....."

Marnie laughed then in an attempt to ease the tension, seeing his obvious discomfiture. 

"It's fine Mark....don't worry about it! I'm sure your son's teacher was the last person you expected to bump into whilst buying your smalls! I just barrelled in....making daft remarks....ignore me....I'm an idiot." 

Turning to her left, she saw a really nice shirt on the rail, it was plain, dark blue. 

"This one would suit you." She indicated. "I'd say blues and greys suit you best.....I'd avoid tan, and brown....oh, and yellow." She screwed her face in mock disgust. 

"You think so?"

Still he seemed unsure of her sincerity, looking sceptically first at the shirt, then at her. 

"Definitely." She replied firmly. "Especially with black jeans.....do you have black jeans?"

"Er.....I'm not sure....." 

"I reckon you'd look good in black jeans.....straights....not flares, mind....." Pausing, she smiled again, holding up her hands in mock surrender, "......and now I'll leave you in peace to finish your shopping, apologies for butting in where I'm not wanted! I'm going to find a well earned coffee in Franco's over the way. I'm absolutely parched! See ya!"

Before he really had time to respond, she moved hurriedly away. 

"Okay......thanks Ms um.......bye......" He called, to her retreating back. 

Waving her hand in acknowledgement but not looking back, she walked briskly round the trouser section and was lost to view. 

oOo

Seated with a bucket sized cappuccino and a lump of carrot cake, she sighed to herself. 

Annoyed. 

_What an arse she was!_

" _Well, well, buying a new wardrobe........like the sweater, goes with your eyes_...." she hissed aloud to herself, in a sing song voice with an accompanying scoff of derision at her own stupidity. 

Of all the things she could have said! 

Instead she bowled right in and made a total prat of herself. Embarrassing him thoroughly in the process. 

Huffing into the froth of her coffee, her brows knitted in anger at herself. 

She was lucky he'd been so nice about it.....after all he was almost a stranger. She'd met him twice for God's sake!  
Lesser men would have told her to fuck off.....mind her own damn business. 

_Honestly!_

Poor guy. 

The cake, which was moist and succulent, went some way to make her feel better. 

Well, so much for her attempts at brevity. At harmless banter. Did it even come under the category of mild flirting? 

Marnie groaned aloud. Head in hands. 

"Dickhead!" She hissed at herself, shaking her head. 

As she spoke, she raised her eyes.....

He was standing there. Looking down at her. 

Fuck! 

A cup and saucer in one hand, doughnut on a plate in the other. Shopping bags suspended on his arm. 

His face was hopeful, but changed when he heard her speak. 

"Oh _Christ_!" She breathed. "Me! Not you Mark!!!" 

He looked relieved. 

"I was thinking out loud.....talking to myself." She added hurriedly. 

"I was about to ask if you minded me joining you....?" 

"Lord! Course not pet.....park your b......have a seat...." 

"So why are you a dickhead?" He enquired, vaguely amused, carefully juggling bags with cup so as not to slop its contents. 

Marnie scowled. 

"Doesn't matter." She retorted. "I just am." 

He was watching her with interest, his eyes darting across her face, down to his coffee, then back again. 

"You got your purchases alright then?" Deciding to change the subject rapidly. Nodding towards the carriers at his feet.

"Yeah. Got some black jeans....." 

"Bloody hell Mark." 

His face fell, but she smiled reassuringly at him. 

"Can't believe you did that.....just on my say so......it's crazy!" 

The crestfallen expression deepened. 

"I tried them on, you were right, they looked okay.....well, as okay as I'm ever gonna look anyway. Better than the things I normally wear.....Sid says I usually look like someone's grandad......half the time I live in T shirts and jog bottoms.....the other half in a suit.....so these are a nice change....." 

Marnie suddenly realised that he was out on a limb here. Completely outside his comfort zone.  
In every way. 

Buying his own clothes. Speaking to a woman who wasn't his wife or a work colleague. Just being out and about generally. 

It was all alien to him. 

She felt suddenly rather sorry for him. 

Clearly his wife normally bought his clothes, he probably hadn't changed style or had anything new or different for ages.  
Now, suddenly, he'd thrown caution to the wind, and bought something he wouldn't usually buy. 

"Well, you'll look great in them." She concluded, kindly. 

An awkward silence followed. 

Mark sipped his coffee with a slurp. 

Glanced furtively around him. 

Marnie took a large bite of cake. 

In turn, Mark chomped into his doughnut, the jam squeezed out and plopped onto the plate. 

"That was bloody lucky." He said quietly, examining his front, which the red squirt had only just missed. Now it was her turn to regard him carefully. His lips and chin frosted rather comically.  
Becoming aware of her scrutiny he licked them, and she found herself inexplicably mesmerised. 

Now he was busily rubbing the tips of his fingers together to rid them of the excess sugar, wiping his chin with a paper napkin. 

Swallowing his mouthful, he chanced to look up again. 

"I'm curious....." He began, pointedly ignoring the fact that she was staring at him. "......I hope you don't mind me asking.....but your name......it's unusual, I don't think I've ever heard it before.....except in the Hitchcock film of course." 

One cheek was stuffed with cake, on which she was ruminating, like a hungry gerbil. Holding up a finger, she waited until she could swallow before replying. 

"Sorry. Didn't want to shower you with crumbs......" 

Looking across the table at him sitting there, his eyebrows raised in question, head tilted to one side, the tiny glint in his eye, a slight smile playing on his lips which he clearly was not aware made him look rather attractive, she wiped her mouth on her own serviette. 

"It's from a book." She answered with an indifferent shrug. "It was a favourite of my mother's when she was young.  
_'When Marnie was There'_.......do you know it?" 

Mark shook his head. 

"I don't believe so."

"It was written by Joan G Robinson. It's about a lonely young orphan girl who goes to stay in a small village in North Norfolk. She has no friends, but one day she sees a girl's face in the window of an old house by the marshes. It's a wonderful story. My mother loved it so much, used to read it to me, she named me after the main character." 

"That's lovely." The face of her table companion had changed. He seemed far away. Deep in thought. Lost to the world. "Really lovely." He repeated dreamily. 

"Yeah. I guess it is." Her smile was genuine. "I never really thought about it.....you should read the book sometime.....its a children's story, but it's really good." 

"I will." 

Glancing down at her watch, her eyes widened in horror. 

"Good lord! Is that the time? I've gotta dash.....I'm meeting my friend later......at half six.....going out for dinner! Gotta make myself look presentable! A toughie I know, but I have to at least try!" 

Mark Jenkins seemed to diminish visibly. Concentrating hard on the dregs in the bottom of his cup. 

"Lucky fella." He said quietly, but with feeling. 

Marnie gave a little chuckle. 

"It's a she....." She replied, ".......an old work colleague......left the school now, but we try to keep in touch, she was a good mate to me when I first came down here....helped me a lot, so we try to meet up, go out for dinner at least once a month....."

"That's nice." Mark didn't seem to know what to say. 

A pregnant pause hung in the air between them. 

Not uncomfortable necessarily but omnipresent, both wondering what to say next, in order to round off their unplanned encounter. 

Mark glanced at his own wrist. 

"I'd better make a move too." He said finally. "Sid's at home, I said I'd bring in something for tea." 

"How is he?" 

Rising as she did, Mark chivalrously helped her on with her coat. 

"He's okay. Cassie has been looking after him, so he's all loved up at the moment, amazing how that compensates for the bruises!" 

"Lucky guy!" She laughed, before realising the implication of what she'd said. 

Those green eyes widened barely perceptibly. 

"I mean....to have someone to take care of him, someone who cares....." She added hurriedly. "Not the loved up bit.....although....." she hesitated, she was digging herself another bloody trench. ".....that'd be nice too.....you know.....um.....okay, I'll shut up now!" 

Mark smiled sheepishly. 

"I get what you mean, don't worry." He responded warmly. 

"Story of my day today.....walk in....put my great big boot in....plosh! Mouth runs away before my brain catches up.....sorry!" 

"Well, it makes a change for it not to be me....Liz was forever telling me off for......" He stopped short, turning bright red. ".......um......I'll let you go, hope you have a nice evening with your friend." 

"I'm sure I will. Thank you Mark.....and it's been nice.....just sorry I was such a prat earlier. I'm not always like that, I promise.....occasionally I can be quite normal!" 

Mark laughed then, his head back, eyes shining. 

_Boom!_

There it was. 

That lurch that went right through her core.

"You look nice when you laugh, Mark.....you should do it more often." She remarked honestly. 

He seemed taken aback. 

"Haven't had much to laugh about lately." The smile vanished as quickly as it came. 

"No, I'm sure you haven't. I know what it's like, believe me. But....well....it gets easier. That's all I'll say. You think it won't but it does.....trust me......." 

He was looking at her with an expression filled with curiosity, mixed with a deep concern. 

"I'm so sorry Mark, but I really must go. As I say, it's been nice....we should do it again sometime...." 

The words were out before she'd even thought about them. Somehow it seemed the right thing to say. 

It was the truth. 

It _had_ been nice.  
They _should_ do it again. 

"I'd like that." His voice carried no real conviction, but that she felt, was more because he disbelieved her sincerity, rather than not wishing to repeat the exercise. 

"Then we can." She smiled genuinely, gathering her bags together. 

She waited, looking at him expectantly. 

He looked back, uncomprehending. 

"Number?" She asked eventually, when he didn't cotton on. 

"Oh! Yes....of course!" He mumbled, patting his trouser pockets and feeling frantically inside his jacket.  
"How stupid.....I'm not up on all this stuff at all.....I'm so sorry....." 

Finding a business card, he handed it to her, she noticed his fingers were trembling. 

Taking it from him, she perused it briefly, then glanced at him again. 

"My personal mobile is the bottom one." He clarified. "The other one tends to go to voicemail....so I've got time to vet the calls....." 

"Okay. Thanks.....tell you what, I'll call it now, then my number will appear on your display and you can save it." 

She proceeded rapidly to do just that. 

Both could hear the phone ringing as he frantically searched pockets, then shopping bags, to find it. 

"Mark....you don't have to answer it, Pet. It'll come up as a missed call, but the number'll be there...."

"Right! Yes! Sorry......" He was so flustered now that he was almost unravelling at the seams. 

"I've _really_ gotta go. So......it's half term this week.....so....er....call me.....yeah.......if you want......um...... yeah.....I'll leave it to you......K?" She was moving towards the door as she spoke.  
Feeling very hot and unsure of herself. Which wasn't at all like her. If she could just effect a parting, get out into the precinct.....escape.......

"I will. Thank you....Marnie. Goodbye." 

"Bye pet." 

She'd made it! 

Well, that was unexpected! 

Breathing freely again once she'd left him far behind, she took stock. 

_What the fuck just happened?_

She'd just somehow managed to ask _HIM_ for a date? How was that even fudging possible? 

No wonder he'd looked as if he'd been slapped in the face with a wet kipper! 

When was the last time he'd been asked out by a female? If ever! 

Poor bugger....probably thought she ate men like him for breakfast. 

What in God's name was wrong with her? Since when did she ask guys out? Practically fling herself at them?  
Since when did she become hopelessly tongue-tied to the extent that she started spouting utter gibberish? 

Marnie Driscoll had no clue what had hit her. She only knew that she hadn't felt like this since she first met Joe. 

But this was Mark Jenkins for fucks sake. 

Sid's Dad......

"Oh God hinny." She whispered to herself, as she returned to her car, throwing her bags onto the back seat. "You're not bloody right in the hid!"


	8. Cassie.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark cooks dinner for himself and Sid. It's surprisingly successful. He also makes some decisions. 
> 
> Meanwhile Cassie is struggling......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **It is canon in this show that Cassie struggles with anorexia, and has also tried to take her own life once before. The chapter tags have been added accordingly.  
> This chapter deals with both of these issues. I hope sympathetically. However, if you are triggered by either of these subjects, I urge you to give this chapter a miss.  
> As with all difficult subjects, I'm not going to shy away from writing them, because they are there, they happen and they should be discussed and not be a shaming thing which is skirted around or pushed under the carpet. Cassie in Skins is a very vulnerable young woman, with big problems. I hope I've shown her accurately.**
> 
> The song which is in Cassie's head is called Dreamsong. By Nate Heller. It's taken from the 'Diary of a Teenage Girl' soundtrack.
> 
> There is also a reference to The Little Mermaid.....not the Disney film, but the Hans Christian Andersen original, which is quite different. I had an Andersen treasury book as a child which I loved. The stories are quite tragic for children I always felt. But quite wonderful.

EPISODE EIGHT.  
CASSIE.

It was pissing down. 

Mark Jenkins hardly noticed, making his way home in a complete daze. 

Didn't know what on earth happened in that cafe. 

Was he thick? 

Had he read the signs incorrectly? 

Did she or did she not say they should meet up again?

Was she just being friendly, or was there more to it than that? 

God in heaven! 

He was so out of practice with all this stuff.....hadn't got a Scooby, as Sid liked to say.

Crashing in through the front door in a flurry of raindrops. 

"SID! I'm home.....you in?" 

No reply. 

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, one hand on the bannister....listening.....no sound of banging music playing, or tv......no squeaking bedsprings, groans or cries which might accompany teenage frantic coupling......

Silent as the grave. 

Huffed aloud to himself. 

Mark pushed his jumbled thoughts to the furthest recesses of his brain. 

He'd simply ventured out to do some shopping....he'd come home with a woman's phone number!  
What were the fricking chances? 

If he was a cocky self confident man, he'd be strutting in front of the mirror, admiring his reflection....

_'Yep.....still got it....'_

He wasn't. 

His confusion only slightly less evident than his disbelief. 

Well, he wasn't going to dwell on it. Not right now. Nor was he going to do anything. She wouldn't be ringing him any time soon.....and he certainly wouldn't be calling her. 

'Forget it Mark. You're an idiot.' He murmured to himself, as he kicked off his wet shoes. 

Dumping some of his shopping bags in the hallway he ambled through to the kitchen with the remainder, gasping for a cup of tea.  
Unpacking the groceries he'd bought onto the counter. 

Some chicken, a jar of _'cook in'_ sauce. The instructions promised it was 'simple and nutritious', the label also contained handy serving suggestions, 'jacket potato or mash, or rice and vegetables'.  
Surely he could accomplish that! 

Looking around him at the mess in the sink and on every inch of worktop, he came to a decision. 

Picking up the phone and the _'Yellow Pages'_ , he thumbed through, tracing down the pages with a finger tip until he found what he was looking for. 

_"Hello, Molly Maid cleaning services, how can I help you....."_

oOo

By the time Sid arrived home from Cassie's an hour or so later, the kitchen looked a little different.

His father, resplendent in a pink frilled apron and yellow Marigold gloves. 

Up to his elbows in suds in the sink. Everything had been, or was in the process of being, washed up.

The hob top was clean, the surfaces wiped. Boxes and cartons cleared away into bin bags. 

In the lounge, the curtains were drawn back, windows flung open to let out the stale smokiness and let the cool evening air enter in. The ashtrays mysteriously vanished. 

The dreaded Dyson had its hose attachment fitted, although it still lacked the end piece. 

Presumably he'd hoovered up the worst of the crumbs and fluff using just the nozzle. 

Better than nothing. 

An aroma of Chicken Marengo filtered into his nostrils. 

"Christ! What the fuck's happening here!"

His eyes scanned the room in disbelief. 

"Grab a tea towel will you son......dry up the clean crocks for me......I've made dinner, it'll be ready in half an hour."

oOo

Father and son. 

Seated opposite each other, tucking in. 

"This isn't half bad!" Sid said, muffled through a cheek full of chicken. 

"No.....actually......it's not. Not what your mum might make.....but still......" 

".....how was your day?"

Sid swallowed his mouthful. 

"Ok. Me and Cassie just hung out.....I'm hoping by the time half term is over, this'll be gone." He pointed to his face. 

Mark regarded his boy from across the table. The bruising on his left eye was now a rainbow. The initial fierceness having subsided.  
A little blood in the corner of the white of his eye was all that remained, a small cut on the brow ridge.  
Giving him a piratical quality beneath the rims of his glasses. 

"I can see what _you've_ been up to......" 

Mark looked suddenly and inexplicably, very guilty. 

"What do you mean?" He responded, defensively. 

"Well.....the cleaning.....the cooking.....all that stuff." 

Mark breathed again. 

"Oh.....I see......."

"Why? What did you _think_ I meant.....what _have_ you been up to?" 

Sid watched the flush of red sweep across his parent's cheeks and down his neck. 

"Nothing! Shopping!" He stated, sharply. 

Then, more softly.....

"Clothes. I bought some new clothes, that's all." 

Should he mention his meeting with Marnie Driscoll? 

What would Sid think? 

He decided firmly against it.  
There was nothing to tell anyway. Nothing whatever. It was all in his head. 

"Well, that's exciting....what did you get?" Sid pushed away his empty plate. 

"Underwear, socks, couple of shirts, a jumper......and some black jeans....." 

His son raised one eyebrow quizzically. 

"Black jeans?" 

"Yeah." 

_"Controversial!"_

"Fuck off!"

"Careful Dad.....anyone would think you're trying to make yourself attractive to the opposite sex.....black jeans indeed!!" 

"Shut up....moron. They look ok.....I liked them....." 

"Bit of a step up from those shit jog bottoms though....what brought this on? Mid life crisis?" 

Rising from the table without answering, Mark collected the plates and began running the tap, to wash the dirty dishes.  
Sid came to his side, standing shoulder to shoulder. He was smiling. 

"Dad.....lighten up....I'm teasing you. You're 44, not 80.....there's nothing whatever wrong with black jeans. It's just that I've never seen you in anything other than T shirt and joggers or your work suit, that's all." 

Watching his father scrubbing manically at the plate with a squeegee mop, pointedly not looking up. 

"What is it? Why are you so upset?" 

"I'm not." 

"You _are_....you've gone all weird.....what's happened?" 

"Nothing."

"Dad.....for fucks sake......"

"I got a cleaner to come. Three hours a week.....starting next Monday." 

"You're changing the subject." Taking his father firmly by the shoulders, Sid turned him so that the two adults were face to face.  
A stream of water and suds dripped onto the floor. 

"Talk to me.....what happened?" 

"What.....like _you_ talk to me you mean? Tell me what's going on in _your_ private life! If I asked you the same question you'd tell me to mind my own fucking business. Butt out. _If_ I asked.....?" 

Sid frowned. 

"This is different....."

"How? How is it different?" 

"I dunno....it just is...."

Mark huffed, he felt, not for the first time, as if the roles between himself and Sid were reversed. He was the child. His son the concerned parent. 

"I met someone." He admitted reluctantly. Then looked at the younger man's face, waiting for the explosion, the indignation, the judgement. 

A mixture of emotions passed over Sidney Jenkins face. None of which he could hide. 

Incredulity. Astonishment. Disbelief. Then.....a wry smile. 

_"Okaayyy!"_ He said slowly. 

"We had coffee......she asked for my number......" Mark was being deliberately vague.....there were things he just wasn't ready to tell his son, nor yet face himself.  
Besides, he was still of the firm opinion it all meant nothing, and he was kidding himself. 

"No fucking shit!" Sid exploded. "Dad....you old dog! I didn't know you had it in you.....hey....wait a sec....is this why the black jeans? _Oh my god_.....it is isn't it! You've met a woman and you've gone hipster.....holy fuck!!" 

He received a sharp thwack with the tea towel for his pains. 

"See.....this is why I don't tell you stuff......Christ......Sid.....you're my son, this is a conversation we should be having the other way around! It's no big deal, it was coffee.....end of story.....there's nothing to see here." 

"Are you _kidding_ me? You go out shopping and come home with a girls phone number.....Dad....if that happened to me I'd be swinging from the chandeliers whistling Dixie.....and you're acting all cool beans.....' _oh it's no big deal_ '......it's HUGE.....who is she? Do I know her?"

"Er, no....." Mark lied. 

"So....let me get this straight.....you're sitting there, sipping your chocamochachino......and some random bird comes up to you, says she finds you devastatingly attractive and gives you her fucking number...?" 

The parental brows furrowed in frustration. 

"It wasn't like that......" 

"Then what _was_ it like, pray tell....?"

"She's not a girl either. She's a woman. I met her in Marks and Sparks.....we were exchanging......" He paused. "......pleasantries....." 

Sid stifled an explosive giggle. 

"......then, when I went into the coffee place, she was sitting there....and there was only one empty table.....so I asked if I could join her....." 

This was certainly a _version_ of the truth.....not entirely fiction.....but Mark felt painfully aware that he was not being completely honest. It didn't sit well. 

"Jesus Dad......I had no idea you were such a fast mover.....no wonder you swept Mum off her feet back in the day......" 

"........and you'd never seen her before in your life......a total bloody stranger.....?" 

Mark hesitated, deliberately evasive. 

"Well, not exactly.......look.....Sid......please don't ask anymore. Nothing's gonna come of it, I wish I hadn't told you now. I feel like an idiot....and that I'm betraying your mum somehow." 

Digesting the words, Sid made some tea, following his father through to the living room. 

"Don't waste too much time feeling bad about mum, Dad. She's happy. Why shouldn't you be too? But, for what it's worth.....if you'll take my advise, I wouldn't go rushing in to anything if I were you.....what with all that's gone on over the last couple of months.....you know.....?" 

Mark gave a slight smile. 

"Wise words son. But don't worry about me.....it was just a meeting that's all, the lady in question was just being friendly, kind.....it's nothing to get excited about. I'm not ready for a new relationship. It's too soon." 

"Dad? When I asked if it was a total stranger.....you said _'not exactly'_.......what did you mean?" 

"Drop it Sid.....I don't want to talk about it anymore, okay?" 

It was clear that his father had clammed up on the subject. So Sid decided to let it go. For now. 

But he was intrigued. 

Intrigued and very surprised indeed. 

It was most certainly not the conversation he'd been expecting to have with his Dad when he'd walked into the house that warm Autumn evening. 

oOo

_Some weeks later....._

Cassie texted her message. Pressed send before the letters blurred in front of her eyes. Dizziness overwhelmed her. 

Lay down on the grass......

_"Sorry Sid. But it's all too much. I just need it all to stop. xxxx"_

A song began playing in her head. The melody filtering through her subconscious, like rippling water, cascading down. 

_"What did you dream about last night?_  
_How did you feel about when you woke up today?_  
_I had a dream about you last night_  
_Why do they always end the same way?"_

On her back, reclining on the damp ground. Above her, the sun winked through the branches of the trees overhead. Dappled spangles, dust motes shifting and shimmering just in front of her face. 

Floating. 

Light as air. 

The Little Mermaid. 

Dissolving inexorably into sea foam. 

Holding up her transparent arms, letting the beams of sunlight trickle like golden syrup through her fingers. 

Puffs of cotton cloud sailed serenely by in the blue, a ship with white sails, edges tinged with pink. 

So utterly beautiful. 

_"I wanna know what happened last night_  
_After you closed your eyes_  
_Was it scary or weird?_  
_Or do you not remember_  
_Did you want it to end or reprise?_

 _You don't have to dream about me_  
_I can't help but dream about you_  
_Ooh, and there's nothing you can do_  
_Ooh, and there's nothing you can do."_

There was a feeling of lightness in her head. A sensation that she was slowly folding up, like Alice when she drank from the bottle. 

She could never be small enough somehow, no matter how hard she tried. Even if she brought her legs up and curled them into herself, hugging her knees. 

Idly, she wondered whether when she died here, anyone would really notice she was gone. 

Not her parents for sure, nor her baby brother......to them she was practically invisible already.....Sid perhaps. Maybe he would miss her. Just a little. 

The warmth of the sun and the pills were making her drowsy. A vague feeling of numbness which was creeping over her.  
Her froth of fair hair stirred in the breeze, wafting little tendrils over her face. She could feel them tickle. 

So empty. 

Both mentally and physically. Her stomach had long since ceased to growl. 

_"I had a dream where I was a princess_  
_And I had to rule, but I didn't know how_  
_And before I could learn, I turned into someone_  
_I knew long ago but I don't know now."_

Three days since she'd really taken any nourishment worth speaking of. Even whilst eating that small morsel she'd felt so horribly guilty.  
Fighting for each swallow. Every mouthful a battle to the death. 

Sid had been with her then. He'd been watching her carefully. Full of concern.  
Cassie laughed to herself at the memory. A thin little tinkling laugh which didn't sound like it came from her at all.

She was so good at it. An expert on how not to eat.  
It was so easy. 

_Too easy._

She could fool him now just as effortlessly as she always had. 

_"Then there's the one where I'm watching my own life_  
_Sung like an opera without any sound_  
_When I get to the part about falling in love_  
_The conductor runs off and the curtain comes down."_

 

She wasn't even sure what started it this time. That gradual feeling of self loathing, which grew in her like a cancer. Poisoning every happy thought she had.  
Making her hate herself so intensely, colouring everything she said and did, until she could take it no more. 

So sorry. She was _so_ sorry. 

Tired too. Just weary of struggling. A constant war within herself. A war of attrition where food was her bitter enemy.  
Devious, evil stuff.  
Tempting her. Luring her. With its sweet stickiness, or it's delicious savoury taste. Every chip, every burger, each cake or biscuit like committing a mortal sin.

Her vicious foe taunted her mercilessly, making every thought she had revolve around eating and the avoidance of it.

Fatter. Uglier. Hideous in her own eyes. 

Even watching others tuck in made her feel nauseous. Could they not see what they were doing to themselves? 

The sunshine was bright now, the clouds parting. 

Closing her eyes against it. They watered, brimming over and leaving a trail of mascara which began in each corner and disappeared into her hairline.  
Sliding down, just as she was, as if she were bodily melting into the soil. Blades of grass around her ears. Birdsong in the trees above her.  
The last of the autumn leaves fluttering down. 

So much wonder in the world. 

Such beauty. 

Almost a shame she wouldn't be here to enjoy it.....

....her final thought as she faded gently and without a fight. 

There was no fight in her, not anymore. 

oOo

_......the same afternoon....._

Mark Jenkins was looking forward very much to leaving work and returning home. 

It had been a long and busy day. 

He'd left early that morning, before Sid was even up. 

Morning routine was now firmly reestablished. 

Back to rising early. 

Still craving a decent nights sleep, since sleeping alone was fucking purgatory, but at least he didn't drink half a bottle of scotch to achieve it. 

In fact booze intake, whilst not completely abandoned, was drastically cut down. Fag consumption also similarly curtailed. 

Mark now had his work shirts laundered and ironed by a local dry cleaning firm.  
_Collection Thursday, ready Friday._

Returned to him hung on sponge covered wire hangers and swathed in polythene. Most professional.  
It was worth it, to have them fresh and pressed properly. Everything else he could manage, but he needed to at least look half way decent for work. 

The situation was far from perfect, but there was a definite improvement. 

The house was beginning to look like a home again. He and Sid were trying to learn to cook. 

oOo

_.....early that same morning......._

Sid yawned widely as he shuffled into the kitchen in his pants. Helped himself to a bowl of Frosties and a cuppa. Switched on Radio One. The post had been.  
He collected the letters and left them on the table. 

A note on the side promised the adventure of lasagne that evening. 

He smiled to himself when he saw it. 

His father was really trying. 

So the son did too. 

Getting their collective act together......slowly. 

Cleaned his own room at weekends, did laundry when required, cleared up the breakfast things, grabbed some food from the supermarket when his Dad didn't have time. 

Coping. 

Learning together, as more of a team. 

The two men were much the closer for it, and that was a good thing.  
Mark still had his moments, his frustrations, bug bears, as did Sid, but generally things were looking up. 

There'd been no more mention of his mystery woman, so Sid hadn't asked. 

It was really none of his business. 

His phone, which he'd placed on the table next to his cereal bowl, gave a convulsive shudder, as a text message came through. 

Cassie.

Crunching a mouthful, he picked it up, scrolling one handed. 

The spoon clattered down as he read the chilling words.....

oOo

_.....Wednesday night....._

It was their night. 

Mark looked forward to it more than he could possibly say. 

Sid was out _a lot!_ That was how it should be. A young man of seventeen should be in a social whirl. With his mates. His girlfriend. Enjoying himself. Having fun. 

But for him, that was the hardest thing of all. 

Spending evening after evening at home by himself was the bleakest of prospects. 

Hadn't realised what a rut he and Liz had been in. They rarely socialised. Hardly ever went out. He'd come home from work, eat his tea and fall asleep in front of the Box.  
More and more they'd argued.  
Mark winced when he remembered some of the things he'd called her in his temper.  
_"Stupid cow....."_

None of it was her fault. 

It was all him. 

He knew that now. 

What was it Manfred called him? _'A plinker!'_

Yeah....well.....he got the gist! 

It's exactly what he had been. A prize plonker. Whether she was angry or not, he deserved it.

It was silly, the things he missed. Her shoes by the stand in the hall. The smell of her perfume in the air, or a waft of cooking from the kitchen when he came in from work. Feminine clothes tossed aside on the chair in the bedroom. Sound of water running upstairs as she took a shower. 

The eerie silence. Deafening. No one to talk to, or even rant at, argue with. Just nothing but an empty room. 

So Wednesday they'd reached an agreement. 

Sid would stay in. Mark would cook. They'd share a meal, a drink, perhaps a movie on TV. 

Talk. 

Properly. 

Take time. 

Quality time. 

Just that. 

It was Mark's favourite day of the week. 

By 6.30pm the lasagne was ready. 

Mark glanced at his watch. 

Where the fuck was Sid? Normally he'd be home by now. 

Reaching for his phone he texted. 

_"Hi Sid. Where are you? Wanna know what time to put the dinner in. Will you be long? Dad xx"_

Waiting. 

No answer came. 

Curiosity turned to annoyance and frustration. 

Rang him this time. Straight to voicemail.

Left a message. 

_"Sid! Where are you? I've got the dinner ready.....thought you'd be here by now. Text me. Dad. xx"_

By the time it got to 8pm Mark had gone passed the stage of anger and into _'concerned'._

Then, as the clock ticked on..... _'worried'._

He rang Jim Stonem. 

"Jim? Hi, it's Mark. Is Tony there?" 

Tony was out. But Jim promised to ring his son, ask him to see if anyone had seen Sid.

Next he tried Walter Oliver. 

Maxxie was there. 

Had he seen Sid? 

No. Maxxie hadn't seen him all day. 

Had he seen Cassie? 

No. 

Maxxie assumed they were together. 

Somewhere, deep inside Mark's chest, there was a feeling. He couldn't describe it. It was just there. 

A sense that all was not well. 

Of course it could be absolutely nothing at all. 

Sid could be off with Cass somewhere and had simply blown his Dad out. Nothing more complicated than that.  
He wasn't sure what to do next. 

Was he being over protective? 

Fuck.....being a parent was such a minefield! 

There were other calls he could make but he really didn't want to make them.....

"Hi love. It's me." 

_"Mark? What do you want?"_

"Nothing. I just wanted to ask if you've seen Sid today?" 

_"No. Why? What's wrong?"_

"Well.....nothing....not really......Liz, he hasn't come home that's all." 

_"Mark love....it's not even nine o clock.....he's probably out....with his friends...."_

"Yeah.....but it's just that it's Wednesday....and we usually....." 

_"Did he go to sixth form college?"_

"I dunno.....Maxxie said he hadn't seen him all day. Look, doesn't matter. As you say he's probably just out. Sorry I bothered you."

 _"He'll turn up. He's having a good time Mark. Let him alone. Listen. Ring me if there's any news, or if I can do anything, okay? I gotta go, I'm er.....busy."_

"Right. Sorry. I'm just being....I dunno.....bye." 

Clicking off. Ending the call. 

Head in hands. 

Those few moments talking to his wife were exquisitely painful.  
Cost him dear. 

Overwhelming emotion, hearing her voice, and the fact she was clearly so keen to get rid of him. 

It fucking hurt. 

His hands shook as he dialled again. 

oOo

Marnie was in the middle of watching a cracking drama. 

Wednesday was her night in. 

Chill. Finish her marking. Veg in front of the TV. Preferably with chocolate. 

Looking down at her phone as the screen lit up. 

_'Mark calling.'_

A wry smile.  
Several thoughts popped into her head on seeing it. The first being _'about bloody time'_. The second being _'shit, what do I say?'_ The third _'I never thought he would'_.

"Hello?"

"Marnie? It's Mark. Mark Jenkins." 

Bless him....he sounded so nervous. 

"Well. _Hello_ Mark Jenkins!" 

"Marnie, listen.....I'm calling because....er.....I need to ask something....." 

"Oh?" 

No, this wasn't right. This wasn't how the conversation she'd envisaged these past weeks would pan out. 

"I'm sorry to bother you, it's just that........I don't suppose you've seen Sid today have you?" 

Okay, this definitely wasn't a man phoning to ask her out on a date! Cut the romantic notion crap and focus Driscoll.  
Marnie back-tracked. Put on her school teacher voice. 

"No pet. I haven't. In fact I did wonder. I even toyed with the idea of ringing you......but....well.....I didn't think you'd .....I didn't want you to think......um.....I didn't."

A pause. 

"What? You mean he wasn't in school?" 

"No pet. He didn't turn up......is anything the m....."

"Oh fuck!" 

The desperation in the man's voice was clear. Marnie dropped all illusion that this was a social call.  
She suddenly felt very selfish. 

"I don't know what to do." 

His tone seemed so lost, almost distraught. 

"Well.....he might just have bunked off somewhere.....you know, him and Cassie.....she wasn't in class today either." 

"Shit!" 

"Mark, are you okay, you sound absolutely beside yourself pet?" 

"Fuck it......Marnie.....me and Sid....it sounds pathetic when I say it.....but we have a Wednesday night thing yeah? Just us.....and he hasn't come home. But he hasn't called....or texted....or anything.  
And he would. I'm sure he would.....he'd know you see. Know I'd be expecting him...." 

"I understand. Have you tried his mates?" 

"I tried Tony's dad, Tony isn't in. I tried Maxxie's place. Walter asked.....Max hasn't seen him all day either.....but he said he'd ask Anwar and others, then ring me back.......if he's with Cassie, where the fuck are they? I'm worried Marnie.....fuck knows why.....but I am......what do I do?" 

"Well, it's a bit early to panic. I mean with police or anything....they might just be out and about, and he's forgotten the day, or something's cropped up.......but......well.....I dunno Mark, Cassie has been a bit quiet the last coupla days, you know? Withdrawn. Just a suggestion but how about you ring the hospital? Just to eliminate it from your thoughts.....I mean, I'm sure there's a perfectly rational explanation, but it doesn't hurt to make a call....."

"Yeah.....ok......I'll do that. Thanks. Thanks for your help......"

"Mark? Text me when you find him, will you pet? Just so I know.....okay?" 

"Yeah. I will. Of course. Listen, thanks......."

"It's okay Mark. Hope everything's awlright." 

 

The hospital receptionist was efficiency itself. 

"What was the name again?"

"Well, it's Cassandra. Ainsworth.......or Jenkins.....Sidney......." Trying to keep his voice even and calm. Even though inside his heart was pounding. 

In the background he could hear the tap, tap, tap of the keys on the computer. 

"Ainsworth. Yes. Here we are. Are you a relative?" 

"No."

"Well, I can't give out any information......." 

"But she's there? Is my son there? With her? You can tell me that surely?" 

The rising panic was now almost too much to bear. 

"I think someone did come in with her.......but I......" 

"I'm on my way......."

Mark Jenkins slammed down his phone and grabbed his coat. 

oOo

_......early morning again...._

Racing up the stairs two at a time, Sid didn't waste a moment. 

Grabbing the first items of clothing that came to hand, struggling into them. 

Phone and keys. 

Out of the door. 

Running. 

His mind was a hurricane of thoughts. None of which were filtered. He just knew he had to reach her. 

Sensible enough to know it was pointless ringing round, to ask if anyone had seen her. Not a spare moment to wait for a bus or call a cab. 

Fervently hoping he'd made the correct choice. 

The park. 

It was where she'd done this the last time. Except last time he hadn't been there. 

_Please let it be the right place._

It was over a mile away from his home, every second could mean the very worst. 

Sid wasn't much of a sprinter, but he ran fast that morning, he didn't give it a second thought. 

Reaching the wrought iron entrance gates, he skidded in and turned along the path, heading towards the benches which afforded the best view across the city. Her favourite spot.  
In amongst the copse of trees, on the brow of the hill. 

That's where she would be. 

Sure of it. 

Never stopping to catch his breath, no conscious thought that he was even breathless. 

Shit! There she was. 

He could see her. 

Lying stretched out on her back on the grass. Looking as if she were sleeping. 

Thank God....he'd got it right. 

_"CASSIE!!!"_

Reaching her.

Kneeling at her side, he was in time to see her eyes roll up inside her head. 

Fumbling for the phone. 

Dialling. 

It was, fortunately, only a few minutes before he could see the flash of the blue light. 

Although it felt like an eternity. 

As he knelt there, cradling her. Sobbing. 

"Cassie......don't you dare......don't you _fucking_ dare......wake up.....wake up for fucks sake...." 

oOo

_....late evening....._

Peering through the glass port hole in the door, Mark could see his son. 

Seated on a metal chair, his knees jammed against the bed frame. 

Cassie lay propped with pillows. 

Intravenous line snaking to a fluid bag. 

Intubated. 

Sid was hunched over her. Both hands clasping one of hers as it lay on the coverlet. 

She looked so pale. Pure and white like driven snow. 

Curls plastered sweatily against her forehead. 

He could see Sid talking to her quietly, as she lay so close and yet so far from reach. 

Opening the door, he entered silently. 

Laid a hand gently on his boy's shoulder. 

"Alright son?" 

Sid turned, almost in a daze. Worn and exhausted. Drawn and pale himself. 

"Oh _Dad_....." He whispered. 

Mark leaned down, encircling the heaving shoulders. Pulling him into a comforting embrace. 

"She'll come back......she will......it'll be alright." He said, as he felt Sid's head bury itself into his shirt. Seeking solace.  
He didn't know if what he was saying were true, but he had to say something. 

The rhythmic clink of the breathing machine was like a metronome. Measuring out each moment in time. 

"I don't know if I got there in time....." Sid choked. ".......they've pumped her out, but she was practically unconscious when I reached her......" 

"Do her parents know? Why aren't they here?" 

"They've gone to Mykonos, the police are trying to track them down.....they're in some out of the way place, on an artists retreat or something..... _fucking hell Dad_....." 

He broke anew, head bowed down over the bed, forehead resting on the back of her delicate hand. 

"......the Doctor's won't tell me anything, I'm not a relative......but they said I could stay......well....I refused to leave, so other than throwing me out...." 

"I understand. I'll go talk to them, see what I can find out." 

Mark left the room as quietly as he'd entered it, wandering the corridor until he saw a nurse coming in the other direction. 

Shown to a waiting room. He sat patiently, hands on his knees. 

A kind faced Indian doctor entered......Mark glanced at the name tag.... _Kharrel_.......

"No relation to Anwar......?" He enquired hopefully. 

The eyebrows raised in surprise. 

"A cousin......" Came the reply, ".......you know him?" 

"My son's friend and class mate......as is Cassie....." He tailed off, biting the side of his thumb nervously. 

".....I know you can't tell me much.....but is she gonna be okay? Can you tell me anything?" 

"I can tell you she's a very lucky young woman. Caught just in the nick of time.....we are hopeful there's no lasting damage, but we won't know until she comes round or how she'll be when she does. It's just a waiting game really." 

"Any luck contacting the parents?" 

"Not as yet, no. They're in Greece apparently." 

"Christ!" Mark ran his hands across his head. "What a bloody mess."

"She'll need treatment in a specialist clinic when she's eventually ready to be discharged.....she's severely malnourished." 

"Yeah.....I guessed, she struggles with an eating disorder.....has done for some time.....she was in Scotland earlier this year, a place near Elgin. She did really well there so I'm told."

 

Mark returned to the bedside to relay the information he'd gleaned. 

Sid was nodding gently in the chair, still holding Cassie's hand.

"Why don't you come home son, get some sleep for a few hours....."

The eyes that stared back at his father were empty and desolate. 

"No Dad. I'm staying. I want to be here when she wakes up. I want her to know there's someone who cares. I don't care what she's like when she comes back, as long as she does......I made that mistake with Tony. I won't make it again." 

Mark laid a hand on the shoulder again. Squeezing reassuringly. 

"I'll stay with you then." 

"Nah. You go home Dad, no sense us both being here. I'll call you if there's anything to tell, okay?" 

Suddenly this young man wasn't a boy anymore, and if his parent hadn't known that before this moment, he did now. He was an adult. More grown up than Mark had ever realised. He was his own person. 

Let him alone. Let him do this. 

"Okay son. I'll come back in the morning.....before I go to work, yeah? Bring a few bits in......you want me to call anyone?"

"It's okay, I'll text some of the others myself. And thanks, that'd be good....some toiletries for her.....things like that....." 

"Right. Sure. I can do that...... " 

oOo

Slumped on the sofa. 

It was late. 

Silent, empty house. 

Mark was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

Fumbling for his phone he dialled through blurred vision. 

His call was answered immediately.

"Mark? That you? What's happened? I've been waiting on tenterhooks all evening." 

Inexplicably choked. For a moment words would not come, no matter how hard he tried to force himself.

"Mark? You still there? Oh God! What's happened, what's wrong?"

"Cassie took another overdose. Worse this time. She's in hospital. Sid's with her....." The voice was so cracked and broken it was barely recognisable.

"Oh Mark, pet.....are you awlright?"

A moment of silence.

"Fuck! Fuck!" The words whispered, almost inaudible. "Sorry Marnie, can't talk anymore, I gotta go." 

"Mark....I......." 

The phone went dead. 

oOo

Tired beyond reason. Realising he hadn't eaten since lunchtime. It was too late now. The lasagne he'd made was covered with clingfilm and placed in the fridge. 

He warmed some milk in the microwave, made himself a cup of Ovaltine. Buttered two slices of bread to make a sandwich. Carried it through to the living room.  
Sat down again, staring at the opposite wall. Chewing mechanically. Was he really hungry? 

Outside it began to sleet, it was almost midnight. 

The sound of the knock made him almost jump out of his skin. 

"Who the fuck....?"

Rising, he answered it, only opening the door a crack. 

Standing on the doorstep, hopping from one foot to the other in the chill night air.....was Marnie.


	9. Mark and Marnie. (Part One.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A knock on the door late at night provides a surprise....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter of two, which will explore a fledgling relationship. It won't run smoothly because relationships don't, there's an awful lot of 'stuff' for both of them. 
> 
> A note about Newcastle United football club....their strip is black and white stripes. Hence their nickname The Magpies. Their supporters are called the Toon Army...it stems from the Geordie phrase, 'goin' doon the toon' (going down the town).
> 
> 'Jackie' was a teenage comic for girls in the seventies and early eighties. Beano and Dandy and Roy of the Rovers were boys comics which ran for years and years! And we're read by generations of young lads.

EPISODE NINE.  
MARK AND MARNIE. (Part one)

She hadn't used the doorbell. The knock such a tentative one. As if the person on the other side knew they shouldn't really be there and didn't want it to be heard.  
But the echo of it broke through the profound silence in his home. 

Mark was so surprised at the sight of her that he just stood there uneasily, peering through the crack he'd opened, as if afraid he'd be pulled out through the door and eaten alive.

"Marnie.....what?" He seemed confused. 

"I know it's late. But may I come in?"

Realising how cold she must be, how rude he was being, he stepped back opening the portal wide, holding an arm backwards into the hall, indicating she should enter. 

"'Course......sorry......where are my manners......" He fumbled for the right words, because, well....it was midnight, it was cold, he was tired, about to retire for the night. ".......come in.....Christ, you look frozen." 

Marnie stood on the mat, shivering. Looking most apologetic. 

"It wasn't this bad when I left." She explained, then laughed nervously. 

"But why are you here.....?"

Popping his head out of the doorway, looking up and down the street, as if he expected to see at worst, fire and tempest, at least, a broken down car. 

He reappeared, running a hand through his hair, looking absolutely done in. Almost haggard. 

Regarding her now, with a questioning expression. 

It was obvious to see that although she wore a coat, underneath she was woefully underdressed for a chilly, wet, winter's evening. 

Words began to tumble out of her, as if being able to say them quickly enough without a pause, would make him understand and not think she was some weird, creepy woman who was throwing herself at him. 

"I don't know Mark. I _honestly_ don't know why I'm here. It's the most ridiculous thing ever. I'm embarrassed. Ashamed even. But when I heard your voice on the phone, you sounded so......I dunno.....dreadfully sad.....like you really ought not to be alone, so I just put my jacket on......I'd had a couple of glasses of wine, which is probably what gave me the reckless courage....but it meant I couldn't drive, and I thought, you know what....by the time I've called a cab and waited for it to arrive, I could walk here. It's only twenty minutes or so. So I did, and no sooner had I left my road when it just seemed to become colder and wetter....." 

To her dismay he gave a little sigh, apparently of resignation. It seemed he was put out by her turning up uninvited. 

Oh lord! She'd made a terrible mistake coming. What in God's name was she thinking? 

"Look....not to worry.....I'll go.....I don't even know what possessed me....." She began.

His face changed then. Suddenly he looked scared. 

"It's okay! You're here now......so let's get you out of that coat.......and....." He paused, taking her in, his eyes rising slowly from her sodden feet, upwards, until he reached her face.  
Holding her gaze for a mere second before stirring himself to help her off with her outer garment.

".....I'll stick it on a hanger over the bath.....let it dry off......fuck me, love......you're chilled right through....."

Shaking his head in admonishment. 

"......you bloody daft woman.....you'll catch your death....." He tutted, becoming suddenly fatherlike, bustling around her. ".....you'd better come in properly and get warm....."

He was still giving her surreptitious glances, somewhat askance, as if he doubted her motive and was inwardly asking himself over and over why she was really there. 

"No! Mark, I'm fine....I didn't want to put you to any trouble.....that wasn't the idea at all....I just came because....." 

"Because what?"

 _"Because."_

So lame.

On the face of it, she really didn't have a reason. Other than some vague notion that perhaps he needed someone. That there was no one else. So why not her? 

"Go straight through.....I'll make us a hot drink." 

Toeing off her damp shoes she followed him meekly through to the kitchen in her bare feet. 

Looking about her. 

"Wow! It's looking somewhat different in here." She said, then bit her tongue. Why did she say these stupid things? 

"I've engaged a cleaner now." He answered flatly, reaching for the kettle and filling it. Taking out cups and milk. Then turning to face her...

"Listen, Marnie....it's late, it's been a shit day....."

"God! I'm so sorry, look.....I won't stay.....but how is Cassie.....and what about Sid? It was an impulse to come.....I shouldn't have. I don't think things through you see......I'm an idiot." 

"She'll make it.....I think. I've left Sid there. He wouldn't come back with me. Wanted to be by the bedside when she wakes up. Didn't want me there." He puffed air out through his mouth, barely holding it together. " I've not long been home.....I felt so.....I dunno.....I hate being in this house by myself. I guess I was just feeling it more than usual.....then I called you....."

"I know how that feels, Mark.....believe me....." 

"Stupid really....I'm supposed to be a grown up after all."

"Mark, pet, I don't want you to take this the wrong way....I mean....I don't want to seem forward.....it honestly doesn't mean anything......you know....like _that_....but to me, you just look like a man who could do with a hug?" 

His eyes raised to her face. Searching, mapping every inch. The little sideways smile he gave didn't reach his eyes, which remained irrepressibly sad. Moist and dewy.  
He could not hold her gaze. His own flitting down, head bowing, settling on his own bare toes, which he examined minutely. 

Marnie took a step closer, opening her arms. 

_"Mark?"_

Walls crumbling. Defences breeched. 

"I'm glad you came." 

He said it so quietly that she almost missed it. Stepping into her as her arms gathered him in. 

Stiff and awkward. 

His entire frame trembled with the anticipation of the comforting warmth to be derived from the contact. 

Being held. By a woman. A lovely one at that. Not that that was a thing. He'd have accepted it from almost anyone right at that moment. 

It had been a long time, an age in fact, his every fibre cried out for it. 

"Oh holy fuck!" He breathed. 

oOo

Mark had no idea how long they stood there. 

It might have been minutes, or hours. Time seemed to cease its movement. 

All his senses screamed at him at the same time. Overwhelming him completely. 

The smell of her, which was so wonderful that his nostrils flared as he breathed in the scent. Shampoo, a floral perfume of some description, her clothes, or rather the fabric softener or whatever it was she used on them. Entirely different from Liz, unlike anyone else he'd ever known. 

He could hear her breathing, aware of the subtle rise and fall of her chest which was jammed against his own. 

How did she feel to him? He couldn't even begin to describe it.  
Wonderfully solid and real.  
So as to capture it he let his eyes fall shut and allowed himself to become fully immersed in the sensation.  
Arms wrapped around him, a hand flush against his back, pressing him closer. His face against hers, their cheeks brushing. Slotting together somehow in synchronicity.  
Each tiny detail so crystal clear. The point at which her neck and shoulder met, her velvety earlobe. Little wisps of fine hair curled at her collar.  
The luxury of her skin, so smooth and soft, so fragrant and delicate that he couldn't remember ever feeling anything quite like it. 

Most of all it was her warmth that impressed itself upon him.  
She radiated a comforting heat. A sweet, vital, living thing, embracing him with such tenderness, surrounding him until he felt himself begin to unravel.  
Never wanting to let go of this moment.  
The touch of another human being. Someone who cared.  
Banishing the feeling of crushing loneliness, which had threatened to swamp him every single day since his wife walked out. 

It was too much. 

He could not permit himself to lose control. 

If, even for one solitary moment he caved in, let go, surrendering himself to his own emotions, he would fall to pieces. He knew it as certainly as if it were carved in stone.  
Mark Jenkins had to hold back, just enough to keep himself together.  
Otherwise he would melt. Be lost. There would be no going back. 

But _this_....

This was what he craved more than anything over the last months. The thing he missed most of all. The touch of a hand, or the thrill of a kiss. A body to snuggle up to at night. Another's voice in the house, another person, a partner in life....good, solid company. Conversation, communication, togetherness.  
It was not necessarily a sexual thing, although that was certainly a part.....it was the friendship, companionship, just the feeling that he was not alone. 

To Marnie it felt as if her own heart would burst asunder. It pounded in her chest until she was certain he could hear it. Since Joe's death she'd never once let anyone this close. The time just wasn't right.  
Words echoed in her head.....from her best friends.....

"When you're ready pet, you'll know......" 

_She knew._

His whole body seemed to be rigid. Beneath his shirt she could sense the tensile strength, his shoulder blades held taut beneath her hand.  
Superior height meant she had to rise up slightly onto her tiptoes, the best to hold him to her.  
Gradually she felt him begin to give. Thawing like an icicle. The stiffness leaching away from him, crumpling, softening, almost moulding himself into the contours of her body, as if he fitted there perfectly.  
The sharpness of his nose was pressed against the side of her neck, his head down slightly as he buried it into her shoulder.  
Breathing quickly, now coming in short gasps, a tiny whistle sounding in his throat. She knew how he fought with himself, because she'd done the very same, so many times.  
Bringing one hand up, she laid it against his hair, keeping him gently in place.  
Soft steel grey curls threaded through her fingers. Little, indescribable sounds of anguish coming from him, which prompted her to tighten her grip even more. 

Neither spoke. 

No words were necessary. 

Finally she began to feel him pulling away. Moving back slightly, reluctantly. Collecting himself.  
Releasing him slowly, smoothing her hands down his bare arms, reaching his large hands and clasping them both firmly.  
His gazed fixed there. Staring mutely at their joined fingers. Not looking up. 

She could see tears glistening, knew instinctively what that hug meant to him. His embarrassment. His inner struggle. 

Not relinquishing her hold on his hands. Keeping the connection intact . 

"Better?" She whispered gently.

He nodded. Still not trusting himself to speak. 

"Hugs don't cost anything Mark......we all need them sometimes.....okay?" 

Nodding again, then slowly raising his eyes to hers. 

"Thank you." He murmured. 

The depths of his pale green eyes were filled with gratitude, it was humbling to see it. 

"No problem. Anytime.....look pet, I'm gonna go now.....you need to get some sleep. You look knackered, and we both have to work in the morning.....but you know where I am, okay? If you need anything.....anything at all......." 

_"Why?"_ He asked then, his face a picture of disbelief, wonderment, confusion. 

"Because you're a nice man....." She began. 

Interrupted by a scoff of derision from him. He wasn't used to compliments. Couldn't take them. Not from a lovely woman such as this, so far beyond anything his imagination could ever have conjured.  
Yet here she was. 

"......because there's something about you.....fuck knows what.....does it matter? Just accept it for what it is.....friends.....yeah?"

"Yeah.....okay.....I can manage that......" 

"Good! Goodnight Mark. Get some rest okay? Let me know how Cassie is, perhaps in the morning....could you? Text me?"

"Aye. I'll do that. I'll call you a cab....you can't walk home alone at this hour....." 

"I'll be fine." 

"No Marnie! I won't allow it.....it'll only take a few minutes.....please......"

He seemed adamant. So she acquiesced gratefully, in the face of his old fashioned chivalry, seeing the look of mortification on his face at the mere thought of her wandering the streets at this ungodly hour, on this foulest of nights. 

Closing the front door after she'd gone. Numb.  
Going through the usual motions.  
Locking up, switch on the landing light.  
Turning, shaking his head, taking a few deep breaths, before shuffling upstairs to bed. 

Climbing in under the duvet, on his own side of the divan as he always did, even though there was no one else there. He extinguished the bedside light, curling himself into a tight ball.  
Mark Jenkins closed his eyes on the day with relief. 

He could neither laugh nor weep.

Hoping sleep would soon take him. 

Somewhere, deep inside he could still feel the warmth of Marnie close to him, smell the scent of her lingering on his clothes.  
It was enough to sustain him till morning. 

oOo 

Next day Marnie found herself smiling when her phone lit up with a message. 

_"You'll be pleased to know Cass is awake, sitting up and has eaten some scrambled egg. She appears not to have suffered any lasting damage. Mark xxx"_

It did not escape her notice that he ended his message with three kisses. Was that just a way of signing off, or was it significant?  
Typing quickly, she replied, and did the same. 

_"That's good news!! Did you manage to get some sleep? How is Sid? xxx"_

Her phone pinged back almost immediately. It also amused her that he typed his name at the end. As if she wouldn't know it was him each time.

_"I did. Thank you for coming over. Sid won't be in today, he's gone home to sleep for a while. I took Cass in some toiletries.....toothbrush, comb etc.....apparently I have no idea what 17 yr old teenage girls require....who'd a thunk? Mark xxx"_

It had been quite a while since Marnie experienced a real belly laugh. But she did just that whilst reading his text. 

_"You're priceless! I'm so glad she's recovering. Thanks for letting me know. xxx"_

_"No problem. Have a good day. Mark. xxx"_

The discourse ended. 

If she'd hoped for anything more she was to be sadly disappointed. 

She'd wanted to add more herself, but was scared to push him. Or to appear to come on too strong. 

Did he like her? As she liked him?

She remembered clearly their first meeting in the classroom. How flustered he'd been.  
It wasn't her imagination, was it?  
There was a definite spark there. 

Marnie sighed resignedly to herself and prepared for the torture that was class 8B. 

Her firm feeling was that the next move should be his....if move there was to be. Chasing after men was _not_ part of her remit.  
The morning bell sounded, and noisily the youngsters filed in.  
Today was going to be a long day. 

oOo

A week passed in Marnie's life, and if she thought about Mark and that hug more than once, then no one could blame her. One day much like any other. Normal service resumed. 

At lunchtime there came a message from the school secretary.

"There's a Mr Jenkins on the line, asking if he could have an appointment to see you about his son...." 

She felt her cheeks grow inexplicably hot. Feigning nonchalance. Why on earth hadn't he just called her number? 

"Of course. Tell him after last lesson today is fine, if that's okay with him. Thanks Sandra." 

What did Mark want to see her about? 

She was intrigued. 

All afternoon her heart gave little flutters every so often as she glanced at the clock. The time positively dragged by. 

Finally the bell signalling the end of the day rang out. Her class piled out, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Gradually the corridor outside fell silent. 

There he was. 

Loitering nervously there. Hands stuffed into his pockets. 

There was something different about him today however. 

He looked nervous yet eager as she came to her door......and oh my! She stopped dead. 

There was that lurch in her stomach again. 

Casual shirt under a fine knit jumper. Jacket over the top. Black jeans and shoes. Hair neat and newly trimmed. 

_Wow!_

So handsome. 

'No making an arse of yourself this time Marnie!' She thought to herself sternly. 'Keep quiet!' 

"Hi Mark. Do come in....." 

Closing the door behind her, she turned to find him standing near her desk, shuffling one foot in front of him. 

"Have a seat. You wanted to talk to me about Sid?" 

Sitting himself down obediently, hands folded on the table, he looked into her face guiltily. 

"Well.....yes....and no." 

Marnie raised her eyebrows questioningly. 

"I.....er......well. Firstly, Cassie is being discharged, she's going back to the place in Elgin for a while, where she did so well before. Sid wants to go up there to be with her for a bit. So I spoke to my w....to Liz....and we've agreed he can go. But it means he'll miss some school. So I was hoping you'd be able to give him some of the classwork, so he can keep himself up to date and not fall behind.....only he's got exams later this year and he wants to get decent grades....." 

"That's not a problem at all. I can do that....I can also give him my tutorial notes to help him. He's been working hard recently, so it should be fine for him to do that.....I've not got a problem with it." 

"That's.....that's great......I um......I.......secondly....." He pulled a hand through his hair distractedly, huffing as if in frustration. "Christ!" 

"What is it Mark? Has something happened?" 

"No. Nothing. It's just that......Oh fuck, I don't know what to say. How to go about this without making a dick of myself.....?"

"My advice is....whatever it is.....to just spit it out. I'll listen."

Mark nodded, then began what could only be described as a long, partially pre-rehearsed, largely nonsensical ramble. His hands commenced waving, long fingers curling and uncurling, touching his face, his nose, his hair. An unceasing flurry of nervous movement. 

"Well, it's a thing you see.....I mean....I think it's a thing, but I'm not sure if I haven't got completely the wrong end of the stick. But then, I figured, well.....you came to me first.....so you must have felt the thing too....but then I wasn't sure if you were just being friendly or nice.....or what......" 

Marnie began to smile. 

"......so I asked Sid......not in detail, you understand.....just the bare bones.....and he said, _'just text'_.....but I couldn't.....it's so impersonal.....texting someone like that.....out of the blue....that's not me at all. But then....what is me? I don't even fucking know. I mean, I used to know. I _think_. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here really. The 'Sid going away' thing was just an excuse to come here, because I wanted to ask you...." 

There was pity in Marnie's eyes, but her smile remained, so he ploughed on...

".....but it's a bit difficult, because, well, Christ, it's been decades since I asked anyone. By the way, I'm afraid I'm not really a very nice person you know. Not like you seem to think. I mean, Liz'd tell you....I get annoyed with inanimate objects, I go off on rants, I can be really fucking nasty sometimes when things don't go the way I think they should, and I'm shit at emotions and feelings and all that....although I think I have improved a bit lately.....also I'm rubbish at domestic stuff but I'm learning or I'm trying to.....cooking and things, I made roast lamb last weekend.....it was actually edible, I was astonished to be fair..... "

"Mark......" She interrupted, stifling her laughing now, "......forgive me, but you've gone off at a tangent, pet...." 

"Have I? Bollocks! Sorry......right......well.....what I wanted to ask, but please, don't feel obliged or if I've completely misread, I hope you'll forgive me, forget it and let me leave with a shred of my dignity intact.....but I wondered if you could....or would.....do me the honour.....of coming out with me some time, um....dinner maybe....or failing that.....a drink perhaps? I mean, it doesn't have to be a thing, not if you don't want, just friends would be nice....or something.....whatever......." His voice trailed away, and he looked despondently into her eyes. "......I haven't totally ballsed this up have I?" 

Reaching across the desk, Marnie laid both her hands over his, as his head drooped, fixing his gaze on them, a tiny sharp intake of breath as she made contact. 

"No Mark. You haven't. You've said it perfectly well. If in a rather circuitous way!"

"Please tell me I haven't got it all wrong.....I thought there was a.....I dunno....I'd have said something sooner......after the time at the coffee shop, but it's been so shit with Liz and I didn't know where I was, but we've talked now.....then the Cassie thing happened, and everything went tits up....." 

Her smile was so warm that he could only bask in its glow. 

"I'd love to." She whispered. 

"You would? What with me? _Really_?" 

"Really! And just so you know.....I'm not perfect either.....I can be bossy, and impulsive to the point of doing and saying the daftest things....as I'm sure you're already painfully aware. I try to organise things with military precision, whether people want that or not.....and it can be very irritating...."

"Sounds like you're trying to put me off....."

"Not at all pet. I'm just telling you I'm not the Archangel Gabriel that's all!" 

His smile was a beaming ray which illuminated his face. Utter relief that he'd managed to get this over with. Joy at her favourable response. 

"I have to ask you though......" Her face remained kindly, soft, her voice too. ".....what's happening with you and your wife? Do you still love her? Only, if you do, it's not a good basis to begin if you want a relationship. If it's friendship you're looking for, then that's different. But I'm not going to be a gooseberry who comes between you both.....nor yet a stop-gap while you sort yourself out prior to a reconciliation. Just so we're clear from the start." 

The smile was wiped away in an instant. Replaced by a scandalised expression. Mark's cheeks turned pale, but his right hand strayed unconsciously to his left, touching the gold band he still wore on his third finger. 

"Good God! What kind of cunt do you think I am? I would _never_.......as if I would even ask........" 

Her hands tightened their grip on his own. 

"It's okay Mark. Don't get upset. It's just that I have to know.....it's a very long time since I've been with anyone, or even felt I wanted to......and I don't want to be embroiled in the middle of someone else's messy relationship. I couldn't take it. It's best we're honest with each other, surely?" 

Pulling his hands from hers, flustered beyond reason, he stood up, the chair scraping noisily across the floor. Looking distraught. Flushed with shame. The vein on his forehead bulged alarmingly. 

"Look, I'm gonna go......this was a mistake, I'm sorry I put you in a position that makes you uncomfortable......I'm a prick.....I don't know what I'm doing.......way out of my fucking depth. I'm sorry...." 

Turning he began to stumble towards the door, knocking into chairs and desks as he made his bid for escape. 

"Mark! For the love of God...... _stop_.......don't run away and leave it like this......" Not looking back, he reached the corridor, barrelling down it. "........oh for fucks sake!"  
She kicked the nearest chair to her viciously, sending it spinning across the room.  
_"SHIT!"_

oOo

The station platform was crowded. 

_"Platform Two for the 17.16 service to Manchester Piccadilly. Calling at Cheltenham Spa. Birmingham New Street. Wolverhampton. Stafford. Stoke on Trent. Stockport and Manchester Piccadilly. Change at Manchester for services to Preston, Carlisle, Glasgow and Edinburgh."_

Mark felt bereft, and his son hadn't even gone yet.  
Hovering close by, the concerned parent. 

Chris and Jal had come to say their goodbyes too. 

It did not escape Mark's notice that Cassie's parents were not there to see off their daughter. 

Apparently baby Reuben had the sniffles.

The lamest excuse ever, he considered. But then, who was he to judge? He didn't know the Ainsworth's.  
_'Let he that is without sin, cast the first stone......'_

.....and Mark was most certainly not without sin. Most especially in his own eyes. 

His eyes watered as he thought of his conversation earlier in the classroom. 

Did she seriously think he'd ask her out, or even try to befriend her if he didn't think his marriage was over?  
What did she take him for? 

Shaking his head to expunge the painful memory. What an utter fool he was. Flattered by the attentions of someone younger, attractive. Ridiculous. 

From his vantage point he watched his son with Cassie. Chris with Jal. 

Cassie looked like a pale phantom. Ethereal. As fragile as a leaf on the wind.  
As he looked on, she lay her head on Sid's shoulder, his arms automatically coming round, encircling her, pulling her into him. Toe to toe, their bags at their feet.  
Were it not for the trademark woolly hat, his boy would look much older, he thought. 

Chris was embracing Jal in a similar way, their foreheads touching, they were talking quietly together, almost conspiratorial, little pecks on each other's lips, then smiling knowingly at the intimate secrets they shared. 

Mark swallowed. How was it that these young people seemed to be able to express themselves without hang ups or shyness? Knowing so certainly what they wanted and what they were doing?  
Whilst he struggled inwardly and outwardly with every aspect of relationships?  
It didn't make sense. 

They were young, it was true, but they were so open. So candid about matters of the heart.  
No grey areas. Just black and white. They loved wholly and unconditionally. Or they didn't.  
Whichever fitted the bill. 

Not for them the pitfalls of conforming to convention, enduring the _'slings and arrows of outrageous fortune'_ , financial worries, all the many 'troubles at mill' or the struggles of holding together a loveless marriage. 

Was his marriage loveless? 

Certainly there'd been little or no physical loving for quite some time. A rut of bickering and name calling. Followed by long silences. Taking sides where their son was concerned. 

Now they were talking again at least. Being adults. Being sensible.  
In fact they got on better than they had for years. A good chat where they'd thrashed out everything.  
Liz had told him, when they met to discuss this very trip, she didn't love him anymore. She was sorry, but she wanted a divorce.  
Not that it had come as a great surprise.  
He agreed to give her anything she wanted. No arguments. When he told her that she burst into tears. He'd comforted her. But it wasn't the same somehow, something had fundamentally changed. Hadn't felt that familiar jolt inside that he used to feel. Found himself comparing it to the thrill he'd felt a few nights ago, being hugged by someone new.  
At least they'd remained amicable, when she'd left he felt lighter. Less burdened with the blame.  
But Marnie's words had forced him to consider.  
Did he still love her? 

It was difficult to wipe away more than twenty years of companionship. But love? 

Somewhere, along the way, he'd lost it. 

Seeping away to be replaced by tolerance. 

He knew that now. After that meeting. He knew. 

Looking up he could see that the four young people were in a group hug. Faces pressed together, saying their goodbyes prior to the train's departure.  
He walked forwards as they peeled apart.

Sid turned to his father, meaning to give him a brief pat on the back, but was taken by surprise.  
Mark clasped his son close to him. Holding him tightly. 

"I'm gonna miss you like hell." He whispered. "But you're going where you should be, and that's all good. Take care won't you? Let me know how you get on....yeah? Mum sends you her love, she's working today and couldn't get off, but she wanted me to tell you that." Leaning back he held Sid's gaze confidently. " You haven't always had my best son. I realise that now. But I'll try my hardest to make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much." 

Pulling away, both pairs of eyes were wet. Sid couldn't make much of a speech in return. He simply squeezed his dad's shoulders and tried to smile. 

"Thanks dad." He muttered. "Love you too." Then turned hurriedly away to begin loading their luggage in order to recover himself.

When Cassie came over to say farewell, he embraced her equally firmly. 

"You take care my lass. Take your time. Remember, a young sapling bends in the wind just as an old oak does. Take advantage of everything they offer you. You're stronger than you think, and ten times as worthy. You'll find your way, I know you will. A way to cope. A lovely lass like you....you have a bright future ahead of you, and so much to give. You know where I am if you ever need a chat....just call me okay?" 

"Wow! Thanks Mr Jenkins." 

"Mark. Call me Mark."

"Thank you Mark. That means such a lot. You've no idea......"

The two boarded, as the guard's whistle blew. 

Mark Jenkins remained, looking on, as slowly, the train began to pull out. He waved his hand, then turned away, hands stuffed into his pockets.  
He felt his heart would break.

Arriving home he was hungry and tired. 

Pulling up outside his house in his little red mini, he could see another car parked next to his space. 

Inside it he could spy Marnie. Waiting patiently for him. 

oOo

It was obvious from her face that she'd been crying. 

This fact alone dissolved Mark's initial inclination to tell her to go away. 

Fuck! He'd made her cry. What kind of a man was he? 

One who made women cry apparently. 

Fuck it all! 

Standing face to face on the pavement. 

"We need to talk." She whispered quietly. 

"Not now."

"Yes! Now!"

"I have nothing to say." He glared at her petulantly. 

"Well, I have! Mark.....please....." 

There was no fight in him. With a shrug of his shoulders, and a puff of air from his lips, he gave in. 

"You'd better come in then." 

"Just a mo..." Reaching into the back of her car she pulled out a bottle of red. "Peace offering?" She said hopefully, brandishing it in front of his face. 

A slight smile flitted across his mien, as he ushered her up the path and into the house. 

oOo

He'd planned to eat alone. Wallowing in his own melancholy now Sid was gone. Yesterday's leftovers he'd made himself.  
Instead they ordered in pizza.  
Shared the wine. Quaffed it. Opened another. 

Sitting opposite each other in Mark's now pristine kitchen. 

There was an air of avoidance and procrastination between them as they ate. Sentences of small talk all that had passed. 

Pushing away her plate, taking a glug of Shiraz she looked at him questioningly. 

"Am I going to have to start this off, or will you?" 

His reply was a humph. 

"Mark, for goodness sake. We are grown ups. Can we not have a sensible and reasonable conversation?" 

A look of annoyance clouded his brow. 

"Do you think for one second that I would have put myself through the painful ignominy of trying to ask you out, if I thought for a moment that Liz and I would get back together?" He countered. "That I would use you like that?" 

"Can I ask you something in reply to that question?" 

"What?" He snapped. 

"I know nothing about you whatever, not really. I don't know what kind of man you are, I don't know your marital situation, I don't know about your life, your hopes, your aspirations. I don't even know what discs you'd take to your desert island, or what book you'd choose.....your favourite colour...nothing. And you know less about me...." She saw another small flicker of a smile in spite of himself. "......in asking you about your wife, I wasn't judging you, I was merely asking. For my own peace of mind. It wasn't an accusation or an assessment.....so why are you judging me so harshly?" 

He shrugged. 

"Dunno....."

"God.....Mark.....you look and sound just like Sid when you say that! Give you a woolly hat and......." 

"Fuck! So I'm compared to a 17 year old? Thanks!" 

Stretching her hands across the table she laid them atop his, in a placatory gesture. 

"Well stop acting like one then, pet! Do you even know what is going on here? I mean between us...."

"Sid says I'm an idiot.....haven't got a scooby....whatever that means...."

"It means you haven't a clue.....a Scooby Doo.....get it?" 

"Oh." He said flatly. Then looked up into her eyes. 

Christ! Just like a sad puppy! If he knew what those eyes did to her he wouldn't be sitting there protesting his bloody innocence. 

Before she could speak further he launched into one of his meandering _'War and Peace'_ diatribes. Staccato punctuated, random sentences, that fell from his mouth just as the thoughts processed. 

"All I know is, that first day in the classroom.....well.....I can't describe it. Marnie, I'm not a woman chaser or a _'stud muffin'_ or any of those terms that Sid uses sometimes, like _'babe magnet'_ and all that....I'm just a bloke....I'm forty four...I've been very married for more than twenty years.....any thoughts or fantasies I may or may not have had about the female of the species have been centred entirely around Liz. Well, that's gone now, and it went a long time ago. But I didn't notice it go, or care to....I just carried on. No wonder Liz went elsewhere.....I don't blame her....." 

"Mark....I....." Her hands gripped harder. 

"No....let me finish....let me say this now I've begun for fucks sake.....or I never will.....I'm a grey man in a beige suit, who goes to work and comes home again.....I eat, work and sleep.....try to hold it all together.....in between those times I attempt to numb the pain with copious amounts of Scotch......at least until recently.....but over the last six months I've learned a lot about myself.  
What a total prat I am for a start. A boring, blind, staid old cunt who faces a lonely future. Then.....fuck me...." 

His voice lost its conviction. Tears started streaming down his face, and twisting his hands around, palms up, he held on to hers for dear life.

"......then I go to meet my son's teacher.....and Jesus Christ! It was like being shot through the chest with a fucking great whale harpoon.....seriously Marnie, I dunno how I got through that meeting.....and each time I've seen you since then, it's been worse. Talk about stung!  
But what a twat that makes me! .....I mean, someone like you....what on earth would you see in me? Why would you even look at me twice? Then, well.....in the coffee shop....I got such a shock.....when you said it was nice and we should do it again. I wasn't sure if you were just being kind, because you seemed really kind.....just a figure of speech....you know?" 

Marnie nodded, she hadn't realised it, but she was crying too, silently, at the profundity of his words. 

"I would never have rung you, you know. Never! I wouldn't have had the guts. Afraid of making a fool of myself. The odds were pretty high after all. I wouldn't be the first idiot to be flattered and make a prat of himself over a younger woman. But when Sid didn't come home I _had_ to call, I was running out of ideas.....the biggest surprise was when you turned up here......fuck me.....I really wasn't expecting that. But it did give me hope.....however misguided....." 

"Oh Mark, pet....." 

"......I don't know what the hell I'm doing or where this is going, or what's even happening.....but I do know I want it.....whatever _IT_ is......friendship, whatever......my marriage is over, and I've never felt so alone in my entire life. Liz has asked for a divorce. I'm not contesting it, I'm not fighting anything she wants, she can take it all as far as I'm concerned.....except she says she doesn't want it.  
I can't give her half of everything, which is what she should get and deserves, not without selling the house, but she doesn't want me to do that....she told me.....she's got a nice home with Manfred, well at least for now.....I can't see it lasting if I'm honest, because the bloke's an arsehole but his cock is allegedly the size of a fucking Bratwurst, so hey......" Marnie stifled a rising guffaw.  
"...... _anyway_......Sid wants to stay with me, not them......so he needs a roof over his head, as do I.....so at the moment that's where I am.....just so you know. Recently we've talked, Liz and I.....we got on surprisingly well, no arguments....no rants from me.....for Sid's sake I want us to remain civil, stay as friends.....but as for anything else, it's finished. It was finished long ago. Okay?" 

Rising, Marnie came to his side of the table. 

"Stand up!" She said firmly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. 

"What for?"

"Just do it, you arse!" 

Mark obeyed. 

He found himself enveloped. Held in a crushing embrace. Before he really had time to reciprocate, she pulled back, taking his face between her cupped hands, kissing him on both cheeks gently.  
His head dropped, their foreheads came to rest against each other. His fingers laid lightly on her hip bones, for want of a better anchoring place.  
Sucking in breaths now, trying his best to keep the emotion in. The effect of the wine not helping one bit. 

"Oh fuck!" He murmured. 

"You know, for someone who had nothing to say, you've managed to convey a great deal....do you know when you get excited you speak in very short sentences?" She didn't relinquish her hold. 

"It has been pointed out to me, yeah!" 

"Listen! Let's go and avail ourselves of your comfy sofa.....I want to tell _you_ some stuff....." She whispered, her hand stroking down his cheek gently. 

Nodding, he followed her dumbly, settling himself with her seated close beside him. Keeping tight hold of her hands. 

"Mark. I have to tell you.....what happened to you when you came to the classroom that first time....happened to me too....although I denied it to myself for a while. Simply because I don't believe in instant attraction, especially not second time round. It's nonsense. You don't fall for someone just like that, it just doesn't happen, not in real life....only in movies...." 

"It happened to me when I first met Liz......" 

" _Shut up!_ It happened to me when I met Joe too.....but it doesn't happen twice......" 

Mark began to laugh. 

"Stop! I'm trying to be all serious.....okay.....it _does_ happen......sod it......listen to me, damn you...." 

Ceasing abruptly, as she thumped him playfully, he cast her a boyish grin, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, which had the most peculiar effect on her.....the wine definitely wasn't helping her either! 

"......please Mark. I want to tell you this crap to get it out of the way. It's important, but I don't want it to be a thing.....or for you to feel sorry for me. Pity is not what I've ever wanted. It's the reason I came to Bristol in the first place." 

Deadly serious now. 

"I'm listening....." 

"I came here from Tyneside to start afresh, it wasn't running away exactly, but I needed to find a way to breathe again. It's hard for me to talk about this, even now....."

Mark's face softened, his eyes kind, his thumb sweeping over the back of her smaller hand. 

"Take your time.....you don't have to tell me stuff if it's painful....."

"No. It's important. I want you to know this about me, about why I'm here, about what brought me to where I am at this moment. I want you to understand. I think you and I are quite similar in various ways, how we feel about things......" 

Wriggling free of his grip she stood up, then began to pace up and down the hearthrug. 

Mark remained seated, but watched her for a few seconds with a startled expression, as her hands rested upon her hips and she commenced sucking in deep breaths.  
It was as if she were about to perform a charade, he being her audience. 

Turning once she was fully prepared, she looked down into his face, as he looked up into hers. 

"Right! So......" She began. 

"Er.....do I stand up now? Or stay where I am?" His hands were held forwards almost as if begging, as he asked the question. 

"Stay there...." 

Her reply was so firm, that he sat back hurriedly, trapping both hands between his knees, his eyes widening in alarm at the vehemence of her retort. 

"Sorry.....I didn't mean to snap......Mark.....but please....don't interrupt! I need to get this out!" 

He gave his best look of scolded contrition. 

"I met Joe when we were just out of school. We were in the Police together.....Northumberland and City. I loved him more than anything I can ever describe to you.  
We were two halves of the same whole. I dunno.....it just worked. We never married, but we didn't need to be hitched to be totally committed.  
I moved in with him....or rather, we moved in together. We were very very happy. Both in our lives and in our careers, but it was TOO perfect.....too good......we were too in love....."

She paused, taking in more breaths. Mark watched her struggle with a pained expression. He wanted to jump in and ask questions, he wanted to stand at her side and offer her his support.  
He did neither. 

He remained shtum. 

".....it wasn't to be. It all ended on one horrific day which is etched upon my brain, as indelibly as any tattoo. It's the reason I left the Force. The reason went to Teacher Training College. Why I left Tyneside to come here....." 

She halted again. A single tear coursed down her face. Mark watched it, transfixed. 

"......I'm _not_ going to cry......I won't...." Pursing her lips together, she brushed angrily at her cheek. 

Mark took this as his cue, rising slowly to his feet, taking her elbows and holding them lightly.  
How could he not?  
The urge to give some comforting contact, couldn't be sure if it was right, but he did it anyway. 

"Tell me." He said softly. 

"He was shot, Mark. _Dead_....." The cold starkness of her words made her companion's eyes widen in horror but he remained silent.  
"......in a stupid, pathetic robbery. In a stupid, pathetic shop. Because he was a police officer, doing what a police officer would do.....coming to the aid of a terrorised counter assistant, who was petrified as a gun was waved in her face.....he intervened.....used all his training to diffuse the situation, did what any one of us might do.....the guy said he didn't mean to shoot him, the gun just went off......I lost him because he was just buying Paella for fucks sake......"

Her chest was heaving now, although her eyes remained dry, still she refused to give in. 

"......here's where you say something kind but not patronising...." She gasped. "......and if there's a hug on offer.....I'll take that willingly too......" 

"Oh Marnie..." His voice was gentle, but firm. Now was not the time for feeling sorry on his own part, nor was it appropriate to offer words of belated condolence for a man he never knew. ".....you are so strong. Far stronger than me. I can't even begin to imagine what you went through.....but look at you.....you're bloody amazing." 

It was what she wanted to hear. No pity, but positive kindness. She was so relieved. For once Mark Jenkins got it just right. As she somehow knew he would. 

He drew her into him. Arms pulling her close. The pressure of his hand against her back. Melting her icy detachment from her traumatic disclosure. It was such a profound sensation of solace for him too. Mentally as well as physically. Feeling her sink into his warmth, her head coming down to rest on his shoulder. 

Never had he dreamed that holding someone, or being held, could be so wonderful. He couldn't remember ever experiencing this particular sensation before. 

"Something has changed inside me." She murmured. "Up until recently I hadn't felt able to completely move on, I avoided relationships like the plague....never allowing anyone close, I guess I just wasn't ready......but lately......well.....I've felt different." 

"What a pair we are eh!" He whispered. "And you're so right......I do see the similarities.....all our lives.....with one significant other....never looked elsewhere.....never needed to......but heck, you can start again......you're young......much younger than me....." 

"I'm thirty fucking six....." The words were muffled against the wool of his sweater, where her head was now buried. 

Releasing his grip he pulled back, looking at her closely as if examining her would make it clearer. 

"Fuck.....really?" 

Raising her head, she smiled. 

"Yeah....why....how the fuck old did you think I was?" 

Mark blushed furiously. 

"About thirty.....that's why I was so.....well......you know....." 

"Unsure of my sincerity where a relationship of any description with you was concerned?"

A shrug of acceptance. 

"Well.....basically......yeah." 

"Age is just a number Mark.....whatever age I was it certainly shouldn't stop us being friends." 

Mark scoffed aloud. 

"What....and you don't think people would look at me.....then look at you, and think I was making a massive prat of myself? Not to mention the fact that you're my son's teacher....." 

A little spark of defiance lit Marnie's face, and she chuckled. Her expression bright and honest, her eyes soft. 

"Well, there you are then! Now you don't have to worry about that anymore do you? Who cares what people think anyway! I think even you would agree that an eight year gap is not overly excessive? And as for me being Sid's teacher....well....I won't be forever.....he leaves at the end of the school year......now where's my cuddle gone?" 

Winding her own arms around his neck, her nose almost touched his, it made him go cross eyed trying to focus on her face. 

"There's a lot more I want to say.....but maybe we'll save the rest of the deep and meaningful for another time....what do you think?" She enquired, bringing her hand round to lay against his cheek, he allowed her fingers to stroke down to his chin, closing his eyes and leaning into the soft touch.

"I agree.....tons more to discuss....." He breathed, opening them again. ".....but I think you're right, we've said enough for one night. We at least know a little better where we both stand though.....don't we? I mean, the really important stuff, like your favourite food, and which celebrity you'd like to _'snog, marry, kill_ '.....well, that'll keep...." 

A peel of merry laughter burst from her, and she planted a kiss on both sides of his face warmly. 

"You are so......I dunno! Droll? Dry? That's one of Sid's pearls I assume?" 

"Yeah.....tell me.....is this really the sort of 'finger on the pulse of the nation' stuff that teenagers spend their time discussing these days?" 

"Of course not! It's just a bit of fun! In our day it was those silly questionnaires in 'Jackie' magazine.... based on your star sign....' _Is an Aries the Right Man for You?_ ', that sort of thing. What's the difference?" 

"I think the dubious delights of 'Jackie' may have passed me by." 

"Naturally! I bet you were a more Beano and Dandy lad?" 

"No, actually! I was more into the Marvel stuff! That and books. Action hero with super powers..... Spider-Man, Superman.....that was more me!"

"Ah! Not football then? Roy of the Rovers?" 

Mark grimaced. 

"Fuck no! I hate football!" 

"Oh dear! Well, I'm afraid you're looking at a dyed in the wool Magpie! _'Way-Aye the lads.....Toon Army, Toon Army_ '!! 

Releasing him from her embrace, she sang the phrase while miming holding aloft a football scarf, swaying from side to side. 

"Christ.....you mean you'd join those massive twats with gigantic beer bellies, who stand on the terraces at St James's Park naked from the waist up.......in fucking January? ' _Look at me....I'm a REAL man.....!_ ' Dickheads!" 

"Hahaha....I know what you mean.....I used to be on duty for home matches sometimes, it was a laugh a minute I can tell you! Oh well, that's a taboo subject for us then....I promise I'll avoid the topic of footy in the future!" 

"So there is a future then? You think? I mean us? You? And me?" 

His face looked so ridiculously hopeful, so filled with an indescribable openness and blind optimism that she almost leaned forward and snogged the breath right out of him.....she didn't, but she felt the definite urge to do so.

"I see no reason why not. Do you?" She replied calmly. 

"Fuck knows what Sid'll say......" 

"I would have thought he'd be happy for you. Your ex wife too for that matter. After all, they both have someone. Why not you? By the way......I notice you still wear your wedding ring." 

Mark looked down at his own left hand guiltily. 

"Yeah. My _ex_....wife.....shit! I'm sorry. I took it off for a while last week after we'd spoken, but I fiddle with it constantly, always have, so I feel completely naked without it. I still _feel_ married....well, technically I suppose I still am...is that a problem? Is it wrong? Should I take it off? It feels horribly weird not wearing it." 

"Of course it isn't! Don't be sorry for goodness sake. You do whatever you feel is right, and when.  
Listen Mark, we don't have to rush into this, okay? Not if you don't want to or if you don't feel ready. You just have to go with the flow.  
We can be friends, we can be whatever you want.....we can meet up for a coffee, or dinner, or go out somewhere.....it doesn't have to be a full on thing....starting off by being friends is good. Don't you think? See how we go.....we might find we loathe each other!" 

"I can't imagine myself loathing you......."

"We'll see. Take it slow. Sometimes it's just nice to know there's someone there. That you're not alone. A person you can call, or text, or just have a cuddle with.....sometimes that's enough....." 

"I don't think I've ever felt so empty in my entire life. I don't do well by myself.....I wasn't meant to be solitary....it all goes to shit and I feel so fucking lonely....." 

Her face radiated her empathy. 

"I've felt increasingly like that too lately. It's an odd thing. Although I'd been perfectly okay up to now.....maybe it's because it's finally time. For me anyway.  
But I'm not going to push you. You must do what you think is best. We'll leave it like that then.....yeah?" 

Mark nodded, but his bottom lip and chin had become unstable. It was just all too much. 

"Mark, pet.....c'mere....."

Drawing him back in towards her, close once more. Holding on tight again. 

A huge protracted sigh came from him as his shoulders dropped, relaxing. 

"This is so nice.....I could get used to this just on its own, without anything else....." His voice was suddenly unreliable. 

Standing together for a few minutes, as he fought it, collecting himself before he eventually pulled back, tossing her a shy little smile. 

"Okay now, pet?" Seeking and holding his gaze with her own, she seemed to be searching inside his very soul. 

"Yeah. Thanks....I'm alright now." 

"Good! Then would you be a dear and call me a cab....it's late, I've drunk far too much wine to drive my car. I'll have to leave it here, pick it up tomorrow, but I think it's definitely time I went home."

They parted on the doorstep. 

Mark leaned forward and gave her a chaste kiss on each cheek. Unsure. 

"Is that alright? Acceptable I mean? Isn't that what they do in polite society these days? Like the Continentals?" 

She smiled and kissed him back. 

"Perfectly acceptable!" She beamed. "Night Mark, sleep well.....call me....okay? Promise?" 

"I promise. Goodnight Marnie love. Mind how you go. Thanks for making it such a great evening....I was hell bent on telling you to bugger off when I saw you step out of your car.....I was angry, acting like a prat.... _again_....I'm so glad I didn't!" 

"I'm glad you didn't too pet....." 

She gave a little wave then blew him a kiss as she walked away down the path. 

Mark Jenkins leaned against the doorpost, raising his hand in response. Inside, he thought his heart would burst in his chest with so much pent up emotion.


	10. Mark and Marnie. (Part Deux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark is dressing, ready to go out.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Call of Duty' on the X Box was the go to game for teenage guys in 2008....I know....I had to put up with it!!
> 
> All the geographical info on the island of Lundy is real. 
> 
> The reference to 'Fargo' is the film version not the TV show. 
> 
> The pulling the clip from the hair thing is a shameless nod to Sea of Souls....yes....I know.....so shoot me!! I'm sorry. Not sorry!

EPISODE TEN.  
MARK AND MARNIE (Part deux)

_......two weeks later......._

Sid lounged on the sofa, his legs up, ensconced in front of the telly. X Box on. A tub of soured cream and chive dip and a monster bag of Kettle crisps balanced in his lap. 

Vegging out. 

It was unusual for him to be in at the weekend, but since he'd returned from Scotland and was 'sans girlfriend', he was at a loose end.  
It was clear that Cassie's treatment would take a while, it was also clear that he was a distraction.  
Albeit a pleasant one. 

Cassie needed to concentrate all her efforts on her recovery, her various therapies, and her general well-being.  
Without him. 

His plan was a quiet evening in with Maxxie and Anwar.....watch a film perhaps.....have a couple of beers......chat....

Mark hurtled through the room, heading for the kitchen......in his vest and boxers.....a clean shirt on a hanger flapping madly as he rushed by. 

Sid watched him grapple with the ironing board as if it were a python.

"Dad, calm down for God's sake, you'll have a bloody stroke before you even get there! You're going on a date....you're not late for your own wedding! "

"I told you." Came the terse reply. "It's not a date!" 

"All the more reason not to totally lose your frickin' marbles then!" The son answered, nonchalantly posting a large potato chip into his mouth and crunching noisily, returning his attention to the TV screen. 

Moments later, his Dad was back.....this time his face was covered in shaving cream. 

"Quick question......" 

Sid paused the game, looked up with a sigh accompanied by an eye roll. 

"Jeans or chinos?" 

"Depends where you're going!" 

"Pub....then that Italian place in the square....."

"Chinos." 

His father raised a thumb in response. Backed out of the room. Closed the door behind him. 

"DAD!" 

The door opened again. His foamy chin reappeared. 

"You're not wearing that vest to go out in, are you?" 

"Why? What's wrong with it, it's clean....."

"Dad.....seriously....it's the 21st century.....no one wears a vest these days....." 

"They don't?" 

"No! They went out of fashion shortly after the War.....not the Second.....the Boer....." 

The door closed again. Stump, stump, stump....up the stairs. 

Followed shortly by the thundering of his feet coming down again. 

Door reopening. 

His dad......vest-less......now with two shirts.....one in each hand. The one he'd just ironed, and another. 

Standing between the sofa and the television, blocking Sid's view. 

With a groan, he laid aside the palm controller. 

"Which one?" Mark asked urgently. "I originally thought the dark blue.....but then....." 

He held them up to his now bare chest alternately. 

"Trying too hard? Not trying hard enough? Help me out here son, for fucks sake....." 

"The blue one! Why won't you tell me who you're meeting? You're being very clandestine about this whole thing." 

"Because it's none of your business, and nothing'll probably come of it anyway.....we've agreed to be just friends....." 

"That doesn't answer my question. Why can't I know who it is?" 

"Because there are some things I don't have to tell my son.....and this is one of them....she's just someone I met......a friend....there's nothing in it......who it is isn't important......when....IF......it goes anywhere, then I'll introduce you, in the meantime.....well......butt the fuck out!" 

"Fine! Have it your way! She will remain _'Dad's Mystery Woman'_. Personally I don't believe she exists! I think she's either a figment to your imagination.....or a hooker.....and that's why you won't tell me....." 

"Fuck off!" 

"I wouldn't mind you know......" Sid looked up earnestly. ".....if you were visiting the knocking shop..... I mean.....you've been alone a good while.....everyone needs....well, you know.....it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"If you're saying that to wind me up so I'll tell you who it is.....nice try....but it ain't gonna work sunshine! But thanks for giving me permission.....glad you're so broad minded......"

Sid frowned. 

Mark disappeared. 

Ten minutes later he was back. Shaved. Hair combed. Dark blue shirt. Chinos. 

It was quite a while since Sid had seen his dad like this.....in fact.....had he _ever_ seen him like this? 

"Well?" He enquired, holding his arms away from his body and swivelling at the hips. 

"You look great Dad." The son replied, and he meant it. His parent looked nice. Casual, but nice. Younger too. There was a curious light in his eyes that Sid hadn't seen for a very long time either.  
The dead dullness which was his father's habitual workaday expression was gone.  
Whoever this mystery bird was.....it appeared she'd lit him up from within.  
Sid smiled. 

"Have a good evening Dad......relax.....enjoy yourself.....and don't think about Mum. In fact don't think about anyone. Just have a nice time." 

"Any last minute advice? I'd welcome it.....I'm completely winging it here.....don't know what the fuck I'm doing....." 

His son considered for a moment. 

"Don't try too hard. Don't talk in short sentences....it's really fucking irritating. Don't get pissed. Keep your hands to yourself, no inappropriate touching on a first date.....kissing is permissible but only if she makes the first move, and definitely no tongues. Don't talk about Mum and/or your shit marriage....." He glanced down at his father's hands, which he was nervously wringing in front of him. ".......for fucks sake take your wedding ring off......that's a no brainer, she doesn't want reminding that you are recently separated." 

"Fuck! Anything else?"

"Er......offer to pay, but if she wants to go Dutch....let her. Make sure you see her home afterwards..... oh.....and have you got protection?"

"I don't think it'll come to that somehow......" 

"Always be prepared Dad.....you don't want to catch anything, and never take it for granted that a woman is on the pill or has taken her own precautions.....the responsibility is as much yours as hers..." 

"Right.....um......right....." 

"There's a packet in my bedside cabinet drawer.....put them in your inside jacket pocket.....somewhere discreet....you don't want her seeing them and thinking you're just out for a quick shag.....unless of course she IS a hooker....in which case she'll be expecting just that....." 

"Yeah, well I think that's enough advice thanks Sidney....." The father interrupted, with a grin. ".....I'll um....play it by ear.....but I think we can safely assume there'll be no shagging involved."

"You do that! Just be yourself, don't try to be something you're not.....trust me....I've tried it....it doesn't fucking work...." 

"Will do! Night son." 

"Night dad." 

With a smile and a sigh, Sid returned to 'Call of Duty'. 

This role reversal lark was a fucking pain in the arse! 

At that moment his screen avatar was blown to smithereens.  
"FUCK!" He yelled. Leaping up. 

Up flew the kettle chips with him. Spilling the contents of his entire packet all over the carpet....

oOo

A fish out of water. 

That was how Mark Jenkins felt. 

As she smiled warmly to greet him, leaning in to kiss on both cheeks, hands grasping his forearms lightly. 

At least the restaurant was quieter and more congenial than the pub, which had been packed to the rafters. Elbow room only. Squashed shoulder to shoulder, impossible to talk. Fighting his way to the bar, then crossing through the throng carefully balancing their drinks....to the table where she'd managed to procure them a couple of seats. 

Here it was much more pleasant. 

Candles on each table. Muted lighting. A booth. 

Seated opposite one another.......

Marnie had dated a few men. It was easy. She was an attractive young woman, no shortage of takers.  
Since Joe, the ones she'd encountered were, by and large, lonely.....and looking for a fuck. 

Preferably the quicker the better. 

Two a penny. 

Shallow, desperate, falsely confident....almost brazen, trying to impress, or just plain weird. 

Mark Jenkins was none of these things. 

If anything he was the complete opposite. 

Tonight he'd clearly made an effort. Nicely dressed, perhaps a little too much aftershave, but she wasn't about to pick him up on something so trivial.  
Chivalrous to the point of courtly. Opening doors, pulling out her chair, all those little touches which he did naturally, without thinking, had always done......but which, she'd discovered, were quite rare these days.  
It was the sort of man he clearly was.  
His shyness was almost crippling, but he was really trying.  
She sensed that.  
Just to appear unflustered, be normal, not forced, attempting to give the impression that dinner with a lovely young woman was the sort of thing he did every day of the week.....and it was working....to a certain extent. 

She watched him carefully.  
Dipping his piece of bread into the oil and balsamic, popping it into his mouth, chewing and nodding with satisfaction, before licking the tip of his oily thumb.  
Chancing a glance up at her. 

A little smile. So nervous. 

"How's Cassie doing, Mark?" 

Safe ground. Break the ice. Get him talking and relaxed. Show him that he had nothing whatever to be nervous about. 

"Quite well. Sid and she Skype each other everyday.....he's a bit lost without her.....but she's better off when he's not there I think....less pressure on her. He doesn't mean to push her, but he so wants her to do well....you know..."

"Yeah, I get that. I'll admit to being very disappointed in the Ainsworth's. I've only met them at parents evening. I hate to judge, but they are so wrapped up in each other and the young baby.....they hardly seemed to notice her existence." 

"I thought the same.....but I'm not in a position to be critical......I've messed up myself.....far more than a father should....." 

"But the point is, surely.....that you realised and have tried to do something about it......"

The conversation continued to flow without difficulty. Marnie was relieved to see the rather pinched look of his brow gradually smooth out, as the minutes passed and he began to feel more comfortable. 

From time to time Mark stole more glances his table partner. 

Sitting there, her face impassive. Sipping her wine, chatting easily.  
It seemed to him that she was somehow 'in the know'.  
A club with an exclusive membership, that he wasn't a part of. One that knew how to converse freely, be at ease in company of the opposite sex. No agendas, no uncomfortable moments. No pressure or ugly silences. 

Oh, how he was in over his head! He thought. 

However, the arrival of their various courses broke any lingering awkwardness. A couple of glasses of valpolicella loosened him up to a degree.  
The talk more fluid, less of a struggle. 

If he could just get his head around the fact that he was actually here!  
That would help enormously. 

A sudden mental picture popped unbidden into his head. 

Aged about seven. Down at the beach.  
Brother Sandy was in the water, he could swim confidently, noisily splashing about. Whilst Mark stood at the water's edge shivering in his swimming trunks, knees together, arms wrapped around his own bare torso.  
He could hear his father goading him. 

"Get in there lad....yer namby wee squib.....show us what you're made of." 

But he was frightened. The waves were not huge, however they seemed overly large compared to his spare and gangly frame. He could feel the pull of the sand between his toes, the stones and shells cutting into the soles of his tender feet. The chill of the sea as he took a few tentative steps further into the surf.  
Up to his tummy now. Sucking it in as the cold water lapped around him.  
Harsh words filtering out to him from behind, from the safety of the shore. Where his father was gesticulating, waving for him to venture deeper. 

"Go on you thumping great Jessie....you're not even wet for crying out loud...." 

Turned out the fear of his parent was greater even than the terror of drowning. 

Reaching the point at which in one more step he'd be out of his depth. A curious thrill passed right through him, a white topped breaker washed over his shoulders, pouring into his mouth, threatening to swamp him.  
Holding his breath. Almost able to feel his own blood pumping round as his body flooded with adrenaline.  
Only then did the feeling really overwhelm his young self.  
Excitement. Pushing him to heights he'd never previously dared aspire to.

Letting his feet lift. Allowing the sea to take him. Under he went. A rushing in his ears, eyes shut tight.  
Bobbing up again, arms flailing, toes scrabbling to find purchase.  
Mocking laughter from his Dad and elder sibling. 

But he'd done it. 

Emerging, coughing and spluttering, but triumphant. 

Not for them. Only for himself. 

That distant summer day, way back when. The clarity of the memory starkly reenforced by his situation now. 

He glanced up surreptitiously at his table companion. 

So lovely, he mused. Quite different from Liz, who's looks he'd always greatly admired, different from any other girl he'd ever chanced to look at in his youth before her, or since. Not that he'd looked at many. 

She was regarding him questioningly, the candle light dancing in her eyes. Giving him a little reassuring smile before reaching across the table and placing her hand over his own as they lay clasped together on the tablecloth in front of him.

"You look so far away, pet." She said gently. 

"Sorry." His head drooped. "Was just recalling something.....a day, a long time ago....with my Da......he's a fucking sadistic bastard.....don't know what made me think of it." 

"Care to share it.....?"

Relating the story to her should have been an awful trial. An embarrassment. Showing himself up for the weak and pathetic fool he was. Both then and now.  
But that's not how it was at all. Speaking the words was a relief. Telling her his anguish with all the honesty he'd had back then, before he knew any better. Before he understood what his father really was. 

She listened quietly.  
Squeezed his hands again. 

"What a big man!" She commented quietly. "To bully and terrorise a sensitive seven year old child in that way....." 

Mark shrugged. 

"Aye. Well.....he's a cunt."

Her explosion of laughter made his heart soar in his chest. Just as it had when he'd struggled to the surface all those years ago. 

Suddenly he wasn't out of his depth anymore. The vivid memory had served its purpose.  
Yes, it was scary being that far out, but it was also exhilarating. 

Here he was. Mark Jenkins. Holding his own. In spite of everything. 

No matter what happened from here on in, he'd made significant progress, and was a better man for it. 

When his wife walked out, he'd thought that was it. His life was over. 

It was not over. 

It was just beginning. 

oOo

_.....some weeks later......._

"Puffins!" 

Mark lifted his arm from where it rested lazily around her shoulder, as she sat curled next to him on the sofa. 

"Eh?" 

"I said....puffins!" 

"I heard what you said! Is this code? Am I meant to know what the hell that means?" 

"I'd so like to see them....on Lundy.....I've never seen puffins before......" 

Sitting himself forward so that he could look at her, regarding her with some degree of scepticism, Mark smiled broadly. 

"You are the whackiest fucking woman I've ever met!" 

"Yeah! Like you've met loads...." 

"Queuing up they were, love.....beating a path to my door!" 

"That's right, pet. I trampled them underfoot to get to you first." 

"Ok! E _fucking_ nough of that! So.....seriously....puffins....?"

oOo

 _.....events over the preceding months......._

Sometimes she'd just turn up. Always the same tentative knock. As if she was unsure of the welcome she'd receive. 

He quickly learned to recognise that sound, as she never used the bell. 

The way his face lit up when he opened the door to her. 

Marnie would walk a thousand miles to see that look. 

Without a word being spoken it told her that he wanted her there. Mark Jenkins didn't possess the kind of face that could hide its owner's inner feelings. Plainly written for her to see, honest and true.....he was so pleased to see her.  
It was what she most needed.  
Because, whether he realised it or not, he had the propensity to make her feel safe. There was something about his solidity, his dependability, the softer side of him which was increasingly making itself known.  
When he was holding her she could breathe freely. Let go of the fear. For the first time since loosing Joe. 

Never once did he attempt to overstep the mark. Hugs were the limit of his displays of affection thus far. It was something he could do, cope with, and it gave her the sense of security she'd not felt with other men. He wasn't out to lure her into bed, he wasn't going to take advantage of her. 

Mark had managed to gain her trust, purely by being himself. Whilst she was winning his in return.

Marnie told herself firmly that she didn't want more, she liked him but she wasn't in love with him. 

As for him......well....he simply wasn't ready. She knew _that_ too. As surely as night followed day.

So, she would be patient. She would wait. Not push. Be thankful. Let him become accustomed to this....whatever _'this'_ was, at the same time allowing herself to embrace these new sensations too. 

"Hello love." 

"This okay?" A tentative smile. 

"Course! In you come." He was smiling in response, reassuring, standing aside to allow her to enter. "You're always welcome here. You know that."

He meant it.

Stepping over the threshold into the warm homely house that was now his inner sanctum. 

"I've bought us a casserole...." She held out the Pyrex dish as if it were a sacred offering. ".....there's enough for Sid too....." 

"He's not here.....gone back up to Scotland for the weekend, to see Cass. He's hopeful she'll be coming home soon....she's doing that well." 

"I'm so glad."

His arms were as welcoming as his home. Pulling her in, dish and all. Cheek pressed momentarily against hers. Hand on her back. Just for a few seconds, but it never failed to make her heart pound.  
Closing her eyes. Relishing that feeling of profound comfort. Letting go a grateful sigh. 

How had she not realised how much she missed this?  
All this time? 

When that particular penny dropped, it struck her, that she'd been coping well on the surface, but inside she was frozen.  
Now the thaw had begun. 

Mark sensed the tough outer shell hid a certain vulnerability. It forced him to hold back.  
Tread carefully. 

Don't rush. Don't fuck this up. 

Although the intensity of his own feelings sometimes scared him. 

Covering himself now by leading her through to the kitchen. Switching on the oven. Opening cupboards for plates and cutlery. Being generally busy. Hunting for glasses. Opening the fridge. Bustling. Pouring. Handing her a glass of chilled white wine. 

"How was your day, love?" 

oOo

_......the puffin day......._

The first time it happened was the strangest day. 

The most bizarre that Mark could ever remember. 

It was a day of firsts. 

A day of momentous dawning's. 

Different from other encounters they'd had. 

They usually met either at his...or hers. Or they'd perhaps go for a drink, the cinema, a bite to eat. Normal everyday things two people do together. Getting to know each other really, as the weeks slipped by. 

Nothing out of the ordinary. 

_Until this day..._.

Driving down to Bideford together. Boarding the little blue and white ferry boat.... _MS Oldenburg_......the craft resembled an ancient tin bathtub which bobbed like a cork in the hefty swell.  
There was a sharp and chill breeze in spite of the good spring weather. 

"This is fucking mental!" Mark yelled over the sound of the throbbing engine, his words whipped away by the wind as he stood clutching onto the side rail for dear life. On edge. Jittery.  
Buttoned into a thick parka jacket. Scarf. Gloves.  
On his head a fur lined hat with matching ear flaps....he resembled a crazed lumberjack or an extra from 'Deerhunter'.  
Marnie could not help but giggle at the sight of him.  
Face pinched and nipped with cold. Shoulders hunched. 

She knew he was hating every moment. But he was enduring this for her. And she loved him for it. 

_She loved him._

Good God! 

How had that even happened? 

She had to look away quickly. As her eyes immediately filled with tears. Stinging in their ferocity. She couldn't possibly tell him. It would ruin everything. 

Suddenly, as if he sensed her mood, he was at her elbow. Looking earnestly into her face. 

"You okay love?" 

Swivelling back towards him she smiled as brightly as she could muster, wiping at her cheeks with a mittened hand.

"I'm fine....it's the bloody wind....it's making my eyes stream....." 

Moving behind her he threaded his arms beneath hers, clasping his hands around her waist. She felt the sharpness of his chin as he leaned it into her shoulder.  
Standing there. Trapping her against the guardrail.  
Like being hugged by a parka wearing grizzly bear. 

"Thank you for doing this." She said quietly, muffled into the wool of her own thick knitted poloneck. 

"Eh? Can't hear a fucking word....." He cried, competing against the inclement weather and clunky ship's mechanics.

"I _SAID_.....oh never mind!" 

Leaning back into him. Relishing being so close. 

This was new. He'd never held her this way before. 

It was as if he could hear her very thoughts....

"This alright?" He asked, speaking directly into her ear. 

She nodded, not daring to turn her head. Scanning the horizon, the wind taking strands of her hair and flipping it around her face. Placing her hands over his to keep him there. 

Both staring out over the grey, heaving sea, as they neared the lump of rather unprepossessing granite rock which sat there all alone in the middle of the Bristol Channel.  
As they drew closer, he spied the stubby lighthouse. Squat stone buildings and holiday homes. A small church with a square tower. 

"Who in their right mind would actually want to stay here?" He demanded. "I mean.....twelve fucking miles offshore......and there's nothing in that direction until you reach America!" He flung out an arm towards the west. 

"It's a sanctuary." She replied. "A haven. For birdlife and marine life.....it's a Nature Conservation area....I think it's wonderful. You must visit the Farne Islands. I'll take you there one day. They're up the coast aways from where I come from....islands are ancient, mysterious, magical places." 

"Well...." He rejoined, tightening his grip around her middle. "....can't say I'm much of an outdoor type, but I'm prepared to be converted.....although I'll be glad to feel my feet on terra firma......all this bobbing about is making me feel queasy."

By the time they'd tied up alongside the jetty, bundled themselves, their gear and the few other intrepid visitors ashore, the sun had reappeared from behind the clouds, bathing them in its spring warmth, the wind reducing to a faint zephyr. 

A glorious day. 

Marnie led the way, walking briskly. She was fit. Mark wasn't. He puffed along in her wake, but didn't complain.  
The island was three miles long, half a mile wide. Part of the acreage consisted of a working farm, but once they were outside its boundary they were met by an almost unbroken carpet of wild flowers. 

Pink thrift, daisies and yellow Lundy cabbage. Tens of thousands of little heads nodding in the breeze.  
The east coast was rocky. Jagged cliffs dropped away towards the sundering sea. Providing perfect ledges for nesting sites. 

Mark had never seen so many sea birds in all his life. 

Hundreds and hundreds of them. Wheeling and turning. Crying and screaming. 

Marnie excitedly handed him her binoculars so he could watch the gannets dive into the waves, they plunged out of the air, streaking like arrows, beak first, folding their wings back at the very last second as they entered the water. Reemerging moments later, with their prize, a fat fish, which they proceeded to gulp down whole. 

"Fucking hell!" He breathed, gasping in astonishment. "You see that? Imagine the velocity as they hit the water! Must be travelling at least forty or fifty mph! And there are thousands of them...." 

It made her so happy to see him like this. More relaxed than he'd ever been, especially with her. It was as if the open air had freed him somehow. Ripped the lid right off him. Discomfiture vanished. No awkwardness in his manner as there sometimes was, even when at home. Even his shyness seemed less severe. 

Walking along the narrow path. Marnie tucked her arm through his, her eyes shining with the joy of it all, pulling herself into his side.  
He looked down at her hand as it rested there, then up at her face. 

Never had he met a woman like her. One who derived such pleasure from such simple things. She didn't care for anything fancy. No shoes or handbags or expensive things. But take her on a trip like this and she was in her element. Engaged, an unquenchable enjoyment of the things around her, almost gleeful, and he'd never seen anything like it before. 

"Alright?" She asked, nervously. 

"Yeah. I'm good." His smile was fleeting, curving his mouth momentarily then gone. Glancing hurriedly away. 

No one had embarked on the same walk they had. No one was fucking daft enough, Mark remarked with desultory huff.  
It was as if they had the whole island to themselves. 

She was right though. It _was_ all rather magical. So isolated. No intrusion. Not a soul to care or to see. 

Walking in silence. Because words were inadequate. Simply not needed. 

Just the view, the ozone, the birds, and two people who had been alone or lonely for a very long time. 

Hungry after their hour or so's bracing hike, they reached a point where they could stop for lunch.  
Here the ground was almost heath-like. Dotted with small burrows. The turf was soft and forgiving. It afforded views down towards the sea, as well as shelter from the unceasing wind. 

Standing away from the edge, Mark shielded his narrowed eyes with one hand, scanning the water.  
Below him were grey seals, frolicking in the surf. Turning and spinning. Shiny and sleek. Their heads bobbing for a moment or two before sliding effortlessly below the surface with a flick of a flipper.  
When he turned, Marnie had set down a rug amongst the thrift, and was busily unpacking the bag she'd toted.  
Returning to her side he flopped down with a puff, unzipping his coat and divesting himself of various layers.  
She watched him with some amusement. 

So far out of his comfort zone, yet embracing it. 

For her. 

Now peering into the coolbag, then up at her hopefully, almost childlike.  
Only to find her smiling at him, clearly finding something funny. 

_"What?"_ He demanded. 

"Take off that fucking hat for crying out loud....you look like you've just stepped off the set of 'Fargo'." 

The expressive eyebrows arched in mock outrage. 

"I'll have you know, this hat keeps my little ears warm." He retorted, holding the furry flaps against either side his head comically.

"Your ears aren't little. And they don't need keeping warm now....the sun will do that!" 

Mark huffed and pulled the hat from his head. His hair was flattened and shaped oddly, and he ran his hands through it to fluff it up again. Much to her amusement. 

"What have we got?" He enquired then, ignoring her, pulling on the bag to peep inside again. "I'm starving after all that enforced exercise." 

Sitting down by his side, she produced a flask. Followed by two Cornish pasties. Fruit. Plastic cups. A hip flask, and various other comestibles.  
"Yum!" He declared, licking his lips. "A feast! You're a wee marvel so you are!" 

They munched in silence. Lacing their coffee liberally with the Scotch from the flask. 

Feeling it's peaty warmth coursing through their veins. 

"You're a dear, Mark....." 

It was voiced quietly, and rather randomly, as she brushed pastry crumbs from her front and knees.

"......doing this for me.....I know it's not exactly your cup of tea......but....." 

He was looking at her strangely. As if asking her a question without speaking. 

She wasn't sure what prompted it. Whether he'd planned it or if it was a spontaneous thing. Probably the latter. 

Perhaps it was because he'd consumed just enough Scotch to numb that innate Caledonian reserve. 

Perhaps he was exhilarated by all that fresh air and scenery. Or the fact that they were so completely and utterly alone. 

Whatever it was......

.......he was suddenly kissing her. 

No warning. 

It was neither slow nor gentle, not particularly romantic and definitely not chaste. 

Instead he was all heat and fire and insistency.

At first her eyes were wide with surprise at the suddenness of the onslaught. Taken unawares as she was.  
A huge gamble on his part.....as he risked being firmly rebuffed for his apparent audacity. 

Yet somehow she knew he was going to do it. Felt something had been simmering between them all day, or maybe for the last few days. Sometimes she'd caught him looking at her intently, and when she made to smile, he'd glance quickly away furtively. 

Whatever it was, she didn't care......because it was wonderful. He didn't seem to require a pause for air.....just latching on.....mouth to mouth.....a small gasp every so often....his hands fumbling for and finding purchase, clinging to two fistfuls of her jumper, the better to keep her with him. 

His hand was now holding the back of her head firmly, pressing himself against her. She could see his own eyes were closed. Lost in some wild reverie. A tear balanced on his lashes. 

The feel of his lips against hers was so utterly beautiful that she could not suppress a whimper of delight at the new sensation.  
Sinking into him. Melting under that searing flame.  
Dimly aware that he was pulling the butterfly clip from her hair.....so that as he lowered her back onto the rug, she wouldn't lay on it.....

Shit! This man! He was good! 

Completely encircled now by his limbs. Body weight melding chest to chest. Kissing him back with interest. All teeth and tongues....and blistering intensity......oh Christ but he was such a great kisser......

"Mark....pet....." She managed to gasp. ".......slow down.....you're squashing me....." 

And it was over. 

Just as suddenly as it'd started. 

Pulling back, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the rug as he moved rapidly away from her. 

Scandalised expression. Deep shame at his own actions. 

Bringing the back of his hand to his glistening mouth. Holding it there.  
His eyes were dark with passion, changing to horror and disbelief at what he'd done. 

It was obvious by the stretched tautness of the front of his trousers, that he was hard.  
Looking down at himself. Noticing it as she did, throwing an arm across in an effort to hide it. 

"Oh fuck.... _fuck_....what have I done?" 

He was gasping now, sucking in air, beetroot red. 

"Mark.....pet.....you haven't done anything wrong. It's fine....." Her voice was as soothing as she could make it, levering herself onto her elbows, her loose hair tumbling forwards. Pulling up so that she was sitting at his side.  
Reaching over. Drawing him towards her and holding him tight. But he was rigid and unbending in her embrace. The spell thoroughly broken.  
Hushing and comforting, before leaning away from him, smiling to reassure, taking his face in both her hands and kissing him very, very gently. The softest of kisses.  
Allowing her lips to linger against his for as long as she dared, before releasing him. His head followed as she backed away, eager not to break the precious contact. 

"I'm so sorry....." He whispered, becoming choked with emotion. ".....I don't know what came over me...." 

Her thumbs stroked his face tenderly, eyes locked with his. 

"I'd say a mixture of fine Scotch, a dash of bravado....and a just pinch of lust....." she murmured, glancing down at his fly.

He did the same, his expression apologetic. 

Their noses were almost touching, he was relieved to find there was no hint of disgust or anger in her demeanour. Although he searched for it. 

"I would never.......you know......you _have_ to believe me....." He stammered out, in desperation to make her understand. Anxious she should not think badly of him. 

"Hush! Mark....I know you wouldn't pet......it's okay......really......you're human.....you have feelings, please don't start regretting them....and the kiss was wonderful. If a little sudden and unexpected!"

"I'm an idiot." He admitted sullenly. "I haven't completely fucked things up have I? I just.....I dunno....I just _had_ to kiss you......I wanted to.....so bad.....and before I knew it....." 

"Does this prove to you that you haven't fucked up?" 

She leaned forwards, kissing him a second time, more forcefully than the last. He groaned as she deepened their connection, using the tip of her tongue to beg him open up to her, allow her in, her hands still gently cradling his cheeks.  
A little thrill passing through her, right to her core, as his arms came around in response, tugging her close.  
No one had kissed him like this since he was a teenager. It was mind blowing. 

He felt the same now as he had back then. 

Horny and desperate to be loved. Needy and willing. Head still pounding with unbridled lust. Unable to open his eyes.  
So thoroughly and completely aroused. 

"God! Marnie! You're so fucking beautiful...." He whispered. 

The kiss continued until he thought he would pass out. Reluctantly he peeled himself away. A part of him had to hold on to a modicum of control.  
He _wasn't_ a teenager....not anymore.....he was a fully fledged middle aged adult male, and he knew he couldn't allow things to go further. 

"I can't Marnie......I can't..... _you know_.....not here.....not now.....it's not the right time......" 

"I entirely agree." She replied earnestly. Smoothing a hand across his furrowed brow. "Because in spite of the condition of your.....um.....trousers.....I don't think you're ready for more. It's too big a step for you. Too soon. And it wouldn't be fair..... on either of us. So......" She relaxed her embrace. "......we wait. Until you _are_ ready......you'll know when. There's no rush Mark. In the meantime.....kissing is fine. You are _such_ a good kisser....has no one ever told you that?" 

Mark's face registered bashful disbelief. The coy glance shifting down to his knees. Embarrassed in the extreme. A compliment.....from her......he just couldn't take it. Neither Liz or any other woman had ever told him he was any good at anything in the love department.....ever! 

"Really?" Incredulity. "You're shitting me?" 

"Oh! I shit you not Mark Jenkins! And I shall be requiring a lot more research on the subject....just so you know....for valid scientific reasons of course." 

He chanced a little smile. 

Giving him a final peck on the lips she separated herself from him and stood up, offering her hand to haul him to his feet. 

"Come on, Romeo! The puffins will be coming in as soon as the tide turns, let's see if we can spot some.....as we've come all this way to see them!" 

"Best fucking day ever...." He beamed.


	11. Everyone. (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassie has returned from Elgin. Sid is planning a meal for everyone to celebrate. 
> 
> Mark has received a letter which makes him feel very low......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main thing I've tried to get across in this chapter is the easy comfortableness of Sid's relationship with Cassie, juxtaposed with the chronic awkwardness and repression of his father's with Marnie.
> 
> Most of the conversation around the dinner table is taken from events in the show itself. I've not included Sketch as a character. I never saw the point of her in the show other than as a rather weak plot device. She was very cruel to her sick mother and I didn't care for her at all.

EPISODE ELEVEN  
EVERYONE. (Part one)

...... _More weeks have passed_.......

Mark arrived home from work to find Sid curled on the sofa with Cassie beside him. 

His happiness at seeing her looking so well was enhanced considerably, when, on seeing him, she jumped up and launched herself at him in a bone crushing cuddle. 

"Oof! Pleased to see you too Cass! You're looking beautiful!" 

"It's so nice to be back....thank you Mark. I've so missed seeing you and the others....but it was worth it." 

Mark Jenkins couldn't help but be flattered by the way that he, as a parent, was apparently classed as being in her circle of friends and people she'd missed. 

She did look a great deal better. 

There was no doubt of it. 

Two rosy circles on her fair cheeks. Her blonde hair glossy, framing her face in ringlets. 

"I wanted to cook a meal for everyone....to celebrate Cassie being back.....can I do it here Dad?"

Sid hovered, hands in pockets. Looking hopeful. 

"Don't see why not.....I'm sure I can find somewhere else to be...." 

"With your mystery woman?" Sid laughed, almost mocking. 

Cass looked from father to son quizzically. 

"Dad has a 'Mystery Woman'!" He explained. "Won't tell me anything about her.....but they're just friends apparently....." He winked, tapping the side of his nose knowingly. 

In response Cassie positively beamed. 

"Oh wow! Mark! That's so cool!" She hugged him again, taking him by surprise a second time. 

All this hugging was infectious, he mused. Released from her vice like grip, he collected himself, smoothing his rumpled shirt. Smiling bashfully. 

"Yeah. Well....my private life, such as it is, is private.....and anyway.....there's nothing to see here." He replied firmly. "Now I'm away upstairs for a bath and change....I'll leave you two love birds to it." 

He beat a hasty retreat, leaving his son and girlfriend grinning at his back as he left the room. 

oOo

..... _the following weekend_......

Mark sat on his bed. Alone. 

Filtering to him from downstairs he could hear Cassie and Sid laughing together in the kitchen as they prepared the celebratory dinner. A little smile played across his face at the thought of his son, so happy. The person he now knew he loved most in all the world. So proud of him. The way he dealt with life, with Cassie.....with everything in fact. 

So very proud. 

Standing, he pushed the door to and returned to his seat. Picking up the brown envelope again which lay torn open on the coverlet. Taking out the contents. Reading it through for the umpteenth time .....

 _"Decree Nisi. The marriage between Mark & Elizabeth Jenkins has been judged to have irretrievably broken down and will be dissolved unless sufficient cause be shown to the court within six weeks from the making thereof why the said decree should not be made absolute, and anticipating no such cause having been shown, it is there by certified that the said decree will be made final and absolute on the 22nd June 2009."_

Raising his head he glanced around the room. The bedroom he'd shared with his wife. Who was now, to all intents and purposes, his ex wife.  
Nothing much had changed inside it. Except her clothes and pretty feminine things from the dressing table were gone. Some of the drawers empty.  
Nothing of her lingered now, not even the faintest whiff of perfume.  
Mark bought new sheets. Couldn't bear using the old ones. 

He slept here by himself. Still on his own side of the bed. 

Pain seemed to drag at his chest. Causing him to place a clenched fist against his sternum. Finding himself welling up from the terrible unfathomable emptiness he felt. 

Utter desolation upstairs. Whilst downstairs so much joy. 

Looking down at his own hands, he realised he was twisting his wedding ring. A habit he had. The plain gold band which now meant nothing.  
With his thumb and forefinger he slid it off.  
Rising mechanically, crossing to the chest of drawers. Inside, a velvet lined box, where he placed it. Like a holy relic. Closing the lid with a snap. Secreting it right in the back corner.  
Pushing the drawer closed. 

Finality. 

His mind wandered from one sad thought to the next. His failed marriage. The prospect of Sid leaving home soon loomed large. That was as it should be of course, but then he'd be completely by himself. 

So many times. So many memories. Such hope for the future. All gone. 

Nothing but a solitary existence beckoned.

Unless......unless.....he did something about it. Something proactive. Positive. Unless he was able to move on. 

Up until now he'd found it impossible to be unfaithful to her. Although it wouldn't strictly count as infidelity. Somehow it just didn't seem right. Couldn't bring himself to take things further......even though he wanted to.....very, very much. 

Marnie understood. Thank God. So infinitely patient with him. So kind. Many times she'd just held him when he felt such a mess. Such a fucking heel. Why on Earth she even bothered with him, he wasn't really sure. He was just so grateful she did. 

But it couldn't go on like this indefinitely. She was a bright and vibrant young woman. With needs.  
She wanted more. Of course she did. It was right that she should. Eventually her patience would wear thin. 

Since the day that would go down in their shared history as _'the puffin day'_ , they had kissed a great deal. 

He was in love with her of course. Hopelessly so. That fact became abundantly clear to him that same infamous day. But there remained a tiny part of him that refused to let go. Which clung on to the vague notion that he was a married man and this was somehow wrong. Couldn't move passed it. 

His body had other ideas, it reacted treacherously now, every single time. 

How could it not? 

A beautiful woman, wound around him, or in his lap, her tongue down his throat. Making him feel the way he had when he was twenty, when he and Liz first met. 

And right there was the problem. 

Everything that happened between them reminded him of something he'd done at some point in their relationship, he and his wife. Bringing him back down to Earth with a bump.  
Forcing him to pull back, miserable, breathless....and painfully erect. 

To her credit, Marnie was wonderful. Immediately she would stop. Draw away. Give him time to simmer down. Soothe him, trying to allay his worries, his disappointment in himself.  
If she knew he sometimes disappeared into the bathroom and finished himself off with his own hand, she didn't let on.  
Never said a word. 

In truth Mark hadn't thought much about sex at all.....not since the night after he persuaded Liz to return to him, when his father and brother were staying.  
That night Liz begged him to _'do something'_. He'd tried. But when he touched her intimately and she began spouting German it was as if an icy hand clutched his heart.....and his balls.  
Switching him off completely. 

It hurt him so profoundly. More than anything else could have done. 

_She was pretending he was someone else._

Effectively castrating him....

....until the 'puffin day'. When it suddenly all came back. He was still alive below the waist.  
It came as something of a shock. That part of him suddenly waking up.  
He was disgusted by his own body's traitorous needs. Thought Marnie would be too.  
But she wasn't. 

Not one bit. 

_Oh fuck!_

Mark put his head in his hands. Then looked down at them again. They were shaking. 

Reaching for his phone he scrolled until he reached her number. 

Trembling as he held it to his ear and listened to the ringing. 

_"Hello? Mark?"_

"Hi love." 

_"I was just thinking about you."_

"Were you?" 

_"Yes. Wondering how you were, it's Sid's meal night isn't it? You awlright pet? You sound odd."_

"Marnie....can I come over?" 

_"Course you can pet. Has something happened? Where are you?"_

"I'm at home. Nothing's happened. Not really. I'm upstairs. Keeping out of the way. I just don't want to be up here all by myself all evening." 

_"Then come to mine, now. I'm here, okay? We'll talk. Have you eaten?"_

"No. I'm not really hungry. Listen....Marnie?" 

_"What is it Mark? Tell me..."_

"Can I stay?" 

No hesitation. 

_"Bring your stuff."_

"Are you sure?"

 _"Quite sure. Mark just come over, okay.....soon as you can."_

"I will. Thank you." 

_"See you in a little while. And Mark......?"_

"Yes?" 

_"Don't worry pet.....it'll be fine."_

"Thanks Marnie love. See you in a bit." 

 

It was a pretty desolate Mark Jenkins who sat perched on the edge of her couch. His hands clasping a glass of wine as if it were the Holy Grail. Staring down into its damson depths.  
They'd talked most of the evening. An in depth discussion on the why's and wherefore's of separation and loneliness. How it affects different people. How she had dealt with the vacuum Joe left in her life. Hearing her speak of him made Mark feel guilty. So needy. How could he be called a man? She'd managed to cope through far worse than he could ever imagine.  
The conversation faltered. 

Now he was delaying the inevitable. 

Going to bed. 

Finally Marnie decided to tackle him. 

"Shall we go up? It's been a long day." 

Setting his empty glass aside. Looking up at her as if he were about to be sent before a firing squad, and she was asking if he had any last requests. 

"If it's all the same.....I think I'll sleep here.....on the couch....." 

Marnie sat down again at his side. Took his hand. Lifted his chin with one finger until their eyes met. 

"Tell me Mark. Talk to me. What are you afraid of? What do you think might happen?" 

A shrug. 

"I dunno....." 

"You _asked_ if you could stay. And it's okay. We don't have to do anything, Mark. We go to bed. We sleep. There's nothing wrong in that surely." 

"I guess not." 

"Are you scared of your own feelings? That you'll get carried away? Is that it?" 

Her voice was kind and gentle, but Mark found it difficult to look at her. 

"It's not fear of that exactly......it's just the whole sex thing......like it's a betrayal....it's fucking weird.....it makes me feel....I don't even have the words....I don't know if I can do it.....I just don't......" 

"Why?" 

His face was stricken as he looked at her. In his eyes she saw so much confusion, such anxiety. 

"Christ Marnie! _Because!_ " Standing up suddenly. 

She sensed a number of very short sentences were about to come tumbling out. She wasn't wrong! 

Commence pacing. Tick. Wringing hands. Tick. Running fingers through hair. Yep, there he goes. Predictable. 

"Because! It's a huge deal isn't it! Once you've done it there's no going back. Everything changes. Nothing is ever the same again." 

"Okaaaayy....."

"It's what it means. To me I mean. Making love to someone. That someone is placing their trust in you, and you are trusting them in return. It's not something to be taken lightly....for a quick fuck. It's supposed to signify that they're very special to you....."

"Let's not generalise Mark. Let's say me.....and you...." 

"Okay! If we must! The way I see it. It's you letting me in. Allowing me to enter your most intimate, most secret place. It establishes a bond that no matter what, will always remain. It's you giving me permission. When you marry someone, or they become your partner, it's not about possession. You don't own the person, they are not your property.....that's why I hate the expression _'he took her'_......and what that implies. That it's taken somehow as a God given right. It isn't. Not to me. It's you granting me the privilege.....it's an honour.....almost sacred......being inside you......penetrating your body.....it's not a fucking bit of fun.....hanky panky....it's not a quick shag then done, and move on.....it's a magical, deep, wonderful thing, and it requires us... _me_....to give a part of myself, to commit to something. Making a lasting connection which goes on long after I've withdrawn and it's over. It's _everything_ Marnie. It's the culmination of all that comforting, kissing, companionship....it's the cementing of deep love you feel for someone. Something very special.....fuck it all.....I don't even know if what I'm saying makes any sense......." 

As he was speaking, Marnie watched him intently, her eyes filling, spilling over. Never in her entire life had she heard a man describing the sex act in this way.  
It was profound. Very moving.  
Deeper that she could possibly imagine. This was what it meant to him. The reason he shied away from it until he was sure.  
He'd lost that connection with his wife. He was afraid of reestablishing it with someone new. Lest it prove to be false. Then he would have given a piece of himself that he could never get back.  
No wonder it terrified him. 

Taking him in her arms. Nuzzling against his cheek. 

"I don't half love you Mark Jenkins!" She whispered. 

He pulled away. 

"Please....don't......" Flustered. Thinking she was mocking him. Emotionally shattered. One hand covering his eyes. 

"Come to bed with me." 

"I can't......" 

"Yes. You can. And I'll tell you why. Because nothing is going to happen. I'm not a slut or your fuck buddy Mark. I'm not looking for a one night stand. We are adults. We will go upstairs. Put on our nightclothes. Go to bed. Go to sleep. I neither require nor expect anything from you, except perhaps a cuddle if you can manage it. There's no agenda here. No pressure. No need to be afraid. It's something we can do. Sleep. Together. That's all it needs to be. Can you do that?" 

A look of mild scepticism. Then a gentle nod, a shrug of surrender. 

"Yeah......"

"Good. Then let's go up. I'm tired." 

Muted soft light. 

They undressed with their backs to each other. Marnie unfastened her bra and tugged it out through the armhole of her T Shirt. Silly really, but she felt that somehow she aught. For his sake. To spare his blushes.  
From his overnight bag Mark produced a T shirt of his own, whipping off his shirt without undoing the buttons, tugging it quickly over his head, keeping his boxers on. The thought of changing out of them into his pyjama trousers was abhorrent but he felt equally stupid disappearing into the bathroom to get changed there. So he decided to sleep in them.  
By the time he turned round, she had already snuck in under the covers. So he slid in beside her, with a tight little smile. 

It felt so strange. 

Sharing a bed again. 

Reaching to the side, she switched out the bedside light. 

Laid side by side in the dark. Not touching. Listening to one another's breathing. Just a chink of light from the street lamps through the curtains. 

A few moments of silence. 

"Marnie?" 

_"What is it?"_

"Can I hold you?" 

_"Of course, pet."_

Turning onto his side, he gathered her in, giving a sigh of relief and contentment.  
She snuggled gratefully against him with a little whimper of delight. 

"This is nice, Mark." She breathed happily, into his chest. 

He made her feel so safe.  
Warm. 

The comforting smell of him surrounding her. His cheek resting heavy on the top of her head. Hand splayed against her back. 

She felt so soft to him. Like a melting marshmallow. The scent of her hair so sweet and heavenly. 

This was utter bliss. 

"Did you mean it?" He asked sleepily, speaking into the darkness. 

_"What?"_

"You love me?" 

_"Yes. Do you doubt it?"_

"No." 

_"Go to sleep Mark. We'll talk more in the morning."_

He yawned, edging her a tad closer. 

"Night love." 

_"Night."_

Mark Jenkins had the best nights sleep since before his wife left him. Deep, restorative, restful. 

Waking with him in the morning was the most wonderful feeling. Her head on the pillow beside him, his breath on the back of her neck, still gloriously sleepy. Dozing, with his warm body squashed up against her back. Knees bent. Tucked into hers. One arm tight around her middle.  
A little smile creased her lips as she felt him hard against her backside, his breathing shallow and even as he slumbered on, unaware of it. 

oOo

Sid lit the candles in the centre of the dining table, standing back to admire the effect. 

Behind him Cassie entered with the cutlery. Lifting his arm in invitation, she snuck underneath it, close to his side. 

"Shit! I was just thinking! Last time we used the big table in here, was the last time Mum and Dad were together. When grandad came." He remarked wistfully. 

Her hand rested gently across his stomach. 

"It's better for both of them Sid....they were unhappy. Your mum seems okay now and your dad is so much better. Being away I could see the difference in him when I came back. You should be glad for them both." 

"I am. It's just weird that's all. But if there's one good thing that's come from it, it's that Dad and I are closer. I was worried about him for a bit there....but I feel easier now." 

"I love your dad. Even before, he really cared about you...he just didn't know how to show it, that's all." 

She gave him a peck on the cheek. 

"The others'll be here in a minute....help me dish up?"

Maxxie and Anwar arrived first, shortly followed by Chris and Jal. It did not escape Sid's notice that Michelle turned up alone, and it was some while before Tony's ring came on the doorbell. 

Jal threw her arms around Cassie's neck hugging her warmly. Their cheeks pressed together. 

"You look wonderful sweetheart." She whispered. "Just wonderful." 

Everyone seated, they tucked in. 

Lasagne, salad, garlic bread. Happy chatter. Until.....

"You still seeing Sketch?" Chris asked Anwar innocently. 

Immediately a hush fell around the table, eyes darting from one to the other. Maxxie gave a grimace and so did Michelle. 

"Yeah....occasionally." He shifted in his seat uneasily. 

"Has she tried to poison anyone lately?" Michelle asked, cuttingly. 

"Or sneaked into someone's fucking bedroom?" Max added. 

"What??" They all chorused together, except Anwar of course, who already knew. 

"How do you know she did that?" Jal was incredulous. 

"Because I found her hair slide under my bed.....where she'd hidden herself....." 

All around the table eyebrows raised, Tony sniggered behind his hand. 

"She has a tough time...." Anwar defended stoutly. " .....her mum has MS.....she cares for her....." 

"Wow!" Cassie interjected. "That must be very hard on her. She must get lonely. It would turn anyone desperate."

"And a fucking slag....and stalkerish.....and selfish....." Michelle snapped. 

"Well you'd know all about that!" Cassie's tone was harsh and uncharacteristically bitter. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eyes blazing, Michelle made to stand. It was Sid who reached across and stayed her arm. 

"Look....let's not argue.....we're supposed to be celebrating......all back together.....we've all had major stuff happening to us this year.....and we're all still here.....we're supposed to be friends.....let's not spoil it eh?" 

"She started it!" There was a rather childish pout on Michelle's pretty face, but she allowed herself to be calmed, and resumed her seat. 

"So.....who's applying for Uni?" Tony asked randomly. 

"Are you? Maxxie responded, somewhat surprised. 

"Yeah....Cardiff....if I get the results I need.....which I will.....apparently when you're a retard you're allowed extra time and extra help.....it's almost worth loosing half your brain for." 

Sid frowned. 

"You're not a retard. I hate that word. You call me that.....and I'm not one either. It's horrible." 

"I'm gonna go to London.....try out for the dance academies and the Stage schools." Maxxie cut in, brightly. 

Anwar's face fell. 

"I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do.....stay here....work with Dad probably...." 

"I'm applying to York." Michelle's voice was quiet, almost sullen. 

"But that's miles away from....." Chris spoke, then stopped himself, biting his tongue. 

"Well, what's to stop me?" She continued. " There's nothing to stay here for." Her glance strayed pointedly towards Tony. 

The atmosphere was changing. Hostility replacing bon homie.

"What about you Sid? What are you going to do?" Maxxie decided to intercede again, sitting back in his seat and swigging the last of his beer. 

"I dunno. It depends....." 

"On what?" Demanded Michelle. 

"On what grades I get....on what's happening at home.....with Dad....Mum.....and Cass....." Glancing sideways, to where she sat, he reached for, and clasped Cassie's hand under the table. 

"Why are you so bothered about your fucking parents?" Tony interrupted. " It's your life, your future....not their's.....they've had their chance....they fucked it up.....now _me_.....I'm gonna leave this shit hole and never look back." 

Michelle gave a scowl. To everyone's surprise however, Sid smiled. 

"Yeah? Well that's you. And I'm not you. I'm me. And I'll do what I fucking like....we're different Tony....we have different priorities. It doesn't make you right and me wrong, it just means we don't think the same way." 

"Well, I'm gonna get a job, get married and start a family....." Chris commented flippantly, as a tension breaker. 

Everyone burst out laughing. Except Jal, who glanced at Michelle with her eyes wide, almost horror stricken. Only Cassie noticed, but she remained quiet. 

"What about you Cass? You're keeping very quiet. What are you going to do after the exams?" It was Anwar who spoke. 

"I'm not sure." Her voice was far away, almost dreamy. "I've missed a lot of work....who knows....I might not even take my exams......I haven't decided. A great deal depends on how I am.....with my treatment and stuff." 

"You'll be okay Cassie.....you're so strong....you're amazing...." Jal smiled encouragingly. 

Tony gave a derogatory scoff. But received daggered looks from everyone, and so held his hands out as if in surrender. 

"Fine! Sorry....okay......fucking hell!" He gave an exasperated eye roll. 

"You're quiet too Jal. What are your plans?" Cassie was regarding her now, curiously. Her question, whilst deflecting the conversation away from herself, was pointed, as if she knew or guessed something, or thought she did....but wasn't sure what it was she'd stumbled upon.

The unwavering defiant stare she received in reply, was held until Cassie quailed, glancing away.

Michelle made to answer for her, which surprised them all, but Jal didn't allow her to finish. 

"She wants to....."

"Music academy. If I can get through the audition." She replied tersely. "Or else I might just say 'fuck it' and join a jazz band." 

Chris laughed heartily, giving her a sideways cuddle. Which she endured, remaining rigid, but did not return. 

Something was going on, Cassie didn't know what it was. But she surmised that Michelle knew. Whatever it was, it was something big, a secret to which she was not a party....and nor, apparently, was Chris. 

"Who wants dessert?" She asked, standing, as she began collecting up the empty plates. 

"That was very good, Cass....Sid....we should have a toast....." Tony announced, standing importantly and taking his beer bottle in hand. 

"Then say something nice....don't be a dick." Sid cut in, giving his erstwhile friend a pleading look. 

"To the cutest love-birds Cassie and Sid.....for a nice dinner.....and to the future.....to fucking off and living!" 

Michelle ignoring his sarcasm, stood up herself. 

"To Sid and Cassie, thank you. And to all of us.....health, love and happiness!" She held her wine glass aloft, mocking his lack of sincerity. 

One by one they rose and repeated her words. 

Cassie had made cheesecake. Making a grand entrance. She placed it proudly on the table. 

There was a round of applause.

"I've an announcement....." Maxxie said suddenly, rising....."I wanted to tell you all.....me and James....we're....well.....we're a couple......he's coming to London to flat share with me when I leave....." 

"Oh wow! Maxxie!" Cass threw her arms around his neck. "So cool." She breathed. 

Sid beamed with pleasure. 

"You should have brought him this evening....we could have made room for one more...." 

His friend blushed crimson and examined his plate minutely. 

"Thanks, you guys. It means a lot." He mumbled. 

Anwar looked stricken, remaining silent, as Sid began handing round the plates.....

 

......The dishwasher was churning noisily downstairs in the kitchen. 

Everyone finally left in the early hours. 

At last Sid and Cassie had the house to themselves. 

Curled in his bed together. 

"Take your T Shirt off....please...."

 _"Only if you turn the light out."_

"Why?" 

_"Because I hate people looking at me.....I'm so repulsive."_

"Cass, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen....you should be a model...." 

She laughed, a merry tinkling little laugh. 

_"You're so sweet Sid. That's why I'll love you forever."_

"So are you gonna do it then?" 

_"Oh alright....as its you...."_

She stripped. Laying down at his side, partly over his body. Breasts pressed against him. 

"Fuck, Cass....you're so gorgeous....I love you so much....." 

The effect of seeing her like this was almost immediate. Brazen now. Wanton. 

Sid's eyes glazed over. 

_"You wanna fuck me Sid?"_

"God yeah.....with the light on though....I wanna see your lovely face...." 

_"You wanna see my face when you make me come, yeah?"_

"Fuck...yeah...." 

She smiled down at him. 

_"You'd better make sure I do then....."_

Leaning forwards, she kissed his mouth hard. 

oOo

 _.......a couple of months later_........

Quite why Mark had refused to tell his son the details and identity of Ms Driscoll was a mystery known only unto himself. 

It had become something of a joke between them. 

Marnie herself had impressed upon him many times, that it would be far better to be honest. 

He agreed.....in principle.

But as the months passed and their relationship deepened he became less and less likely to tell Sid who she was. 

The truth was that he was scared of what Sid's reaction might be. 

Worrying about a multitude of things. 

He ran the risk of Sid receiving potential backlash from his college friends once the news got out. He could hear it now....

 _"We hear your dad is fucking the psychology teacher....."_ or words to that effect. 

Mark cringed inwardly at the thought of being discussed in the halls of sixth form college. 

In the early days there was also the distinct possibility that the relationship would be a nonstarter, so why bother telling everyone? 

Then there was the problem of Liz. Would Sid think he was trying to replace his mother? Bringing another woman into his former marital home.....was that acceptable? Sid might feel betrayed, or feel that this new usurper was going to spoil the new found bond he now had with his son. Old fashioned perhaps, but Mark was so unsure. 

What might Sid's thoughts be on the age difference between them? He didn't think that eight years was excessive.....but Marnie looked considerably younger than she was. Easily passing for thirty. Could that be an issue? 

The more he thought about it, the more his innate yellow streak grew, and the more secretive he became. 

Marnie was never invited to his home if Sid was there. They weren't seen out and about together in town. Preferring quiet, out of the way places. 

At first his offspring was mildly curious, then intrigued. But after a while he stopped asking. Figuring his father would eventually tell him in his own good time, or perhaps introduce them.  
The months passed and he even wondered whether the relationship had foundered.  
His dad barely mentioned the lady in question, carrying on much as normal. 

Sid jammed on his trademark woolly hat, shrugged his shoulders and let his dad get on with it. 

Concentrating on his own life, Cassie, his friends, revision for the up and coming exams, his whole future......Sid ceased to concern himself too much with his father's covert love life....or lack of it.

oOo

What was the point of all this self-flagellation? 

Mark didn't know the answer. 

And as the weeks passed since the first night he spent with her, he constantly asked himself the same question. 

Admonishing himself for his stupidity. 

She'd told him she loved him. Meant it. He believed her. Couldn't say it back....although it was undoubtedly the truth....

Being with her made him feel alive again. Gave him reason and purpose. Hope that he had a viable future to look forward to.

Subtly, things began to change. 

He started making excuses to stay.....mainly at her place. Felt more comfortable there.  
Although lately there had been several occasions, when Sid was with Cassie at Chris's, when _she_ had stayed with _him_.  
In his worst moments, he dreamed that inviting her into his marital bed, the bed he'd shared with his ex wife, would be a problem.  
However, when push came to shove, it really wasn't. After all, it was just a mattress and covers.... nothing more, and the act of receiving comfort from another evoked far stronger emotions in him than any finer feelings or inhibitions he may harbour in that quarter.  
She couldn't help but notice he no longer averted his eyes when they prepared for bed. In fact, increasingly, he made a point of looking.  
Marnie returned his gaze. Smiling. Reassuring. 

He smiled back. 

Turning out the light, or sometimes not, although leaving it on bothered him.  
Why? 

Afraid she'd be disappointed if she saw too much of him. She was toned and fit. He was not. How could she possibly find him at all attractive? 

A bit of a belly.....not muscular at all.....not nice to look at in any way. 

Sliding in under the covers next to her. Settling down with her in his arms. Feeling her hair tickle his face. 

The intoxicating scent of her that drove him almost to madness. 

Or lying beside her, often aroused. 

How could he not be? 

She was so beautiful. Skin like white marble. Smooth and silky. A delight to touch, when he allowed himself the pleasure. Stroking with just his finger tips down the length of her arm as it lay across him. The times when he just couldn't help himself. Listening to her sigh gently, her head coming to rest sleepily on his shoulder. 

Something always stopped him though, before he went too far......he would close his eyes, think of the most boring and innocuous thing he could, make it go away, by sheer effort of will power. 

As for Marnie herself....well, she wanted him. 

That was the long and the short of it. 

The frustration she felt sometimes moved her almost to tears. Longing for him just to touch her properly. But he never did.  
Apart from a cuddle that is.  
It was pointless trying to talk to him about it. He would just clam up or shut down, turning to face the wall. Curling his legs into the foetal position. Folding in on himself. Mumbled words. 

"Night night love." 

So, she swallowed down her longing, kissed him goodnight. Tucking herself into his back. 

She would wait. Try to be patient. But it was so hard. 

Tonight, however, for some inexplicable reason things were a little different. Perhaps she'd had just a little too much wine. Mark certainly had. Took the edge off those inhibitions. 

It was not something she consciously decided. 

Just happened. 

Snuggling into his side, on a whim she pushed her hand up beneath his T Shirt. Laying her palm flat against his breastbone. His skin was so warm, fresh from the shower. Pale pink and delicate. 

His breathing noticeably faltered. 

A sharp intake of air. Almost a gasp. 

_"Marnie....."_

No hint of warning in his tone, no pulling away, but she felt him stiffen slightly under her caress, as if holding himself taut, waiting for the doom to come upon him. 

Keeping herself quite still, just allowing her fingers to play idly with the little curled wiry hairs he had there. 

Relishing the joy of skin upon skin. 

Closing her eyes and sinking into this new sensation. 

"Is this okay?" She asked gently. 

A strangulated sound by way of a reply. Which she took as a 'yes'......

Progress. 

Just one lamp remained switched on. A gauzy half light. The muslin haze of a dreamlike state.  
Mark felt a warm fuzziness creeping over him, and he had no power to fight it. 

"I can feel your heart beating." 

He gave a little puff.

"Hammering more like." 

His own hand came up and was laid atop hers. Holding it down, pressing it against himself. 

Chest rising and falling with increasing speed. 

"Feels like you're anchoring me." He said earnestly, voice filled with emotion. "Keeping me safe....you know....like when you're a bairn with your teddy in bed with you, clutched tight to your chest....for comfort." 

"Is that what it felt like for you back then? When you were a wee lad." 

He gave a little derisive scoff. 

"Ha! Don't make me laugh! All I remember is lying there in the dark. Petrified out of my wits. I had a big old wardrobe in my room and it creaked. Terrified me. My brother Sandy told me there was someone inside, and if I wasn't good, they'd come out and get me.....night after fucking night...." 

"Oh _Mark!_ That's so cruel." 

"Wet the bed I did.....in fear I suppose.....then my da 'ud belt me one. I was about six or seven. Why the fuck am I telling you this?"

His fingers closed around her hand now, lifting it out from under his shirt, bringing to his lips he kissed it with great reverence. 

"Fucking long time ago.....sometimes I feel like that little boy is just here still.....inside...." He laid her hand back against him. "....not so far away, just under the surface. Swore that I'd never do anything like that to Sid. Never......" 

Propping herself up on one elbow, tucking her hair behind her ear, she looked down kindly at him. 

"Did you never tell anyone?"

Shook his head vigorously, a single tear leaking out, rolling slowly sideways towards his ear and the pillow. 

"Who to tell? A silly wee boy who was afraid of his Da and scared of the dark....pathetic. Who's gonna listen?"

"I'm honoured that you'd even trust me enough to tell me something like that....after all these years." 

Lowering her hand now, she reached the little gap between shirt and underwear. Commencing rubbing him there gently. Just above the waist band of his boxers. Mark sucked in his abs, making a little whimper of panic.

"Easy to tell you.....fuck knows why. Don't even know what keeps making me think of these stupid things....it's like the memories are trying to haunt me. It happened when we went to Lundy.....fucking ridiculous." 

"I'm glad you've told me. It tells me a lot. Because I can imagine you as a little child. Sensitive. Just wanting to do the right thing. Be a good boy. To please everybody. A bit like now really." 

She continued massaging his abdomen gently, as low as she dared. 

"Fucked up if you ask me." 

"Not at all. That's what psychology is all about. The science of behaviour and mind. Conscious and unconscious. It's all about analysing the mental processes. It's what I teach on a daily basis, and you are no different from anyone Mark.....trust me." 

As she spoke, her hand stilled it's movement, and he gave a groan of complaint. 

"Don't stop. It feels nice." He whispered. 

Beginning again, as he let out a sigh of contentment, she shifted herself just a little closer, still looking down at him, from where she leaned on one elbow. 

"Listen. Can I tell _you_ something, Mark?" 

"What is it love?"

"Today is the anniversary of Joe's death."

A jolt, almost like he'd been poked with a cattle prod.  
_"Oh holy shit!"_  
He made to sit up, shocked.....but her hand stilled him, a gentle pressure on his belly, making him sink back, obedient. 

"Fuck......Marnie! I'm so sorry.....here am I bleating on about my pissing the bed as a six year old and all the time you're carrying this ten ton weight on your shoulders....how fucking selfish. Why didn't you say?" 

"I did say.....just now. I've never told anyone else the day.....just kept it to myself....here....in my heart, until now...." 

"I don't know what to say......" He was looking at her regretfully, sorrow in his eyes. 

"Mark, I don't want words....." She replied gently. ".....there are none. Its time to move on......remember fondly....not with sadness. Not anymore. If there's one thing Joe would never have wanted, it's for me to be miserable and remain unloved. He's gone, that's all there is to it. He's not coming back.....but you......you're here......with me....now......" 

Ceasing her soft kneading of his stomach, crossing her arms in front of herself, she took hold of the hem of her own T Shirt with both hands, lifting it slowly up and over her head before tossing it aside.  
Fully exposing herself to him in the velvety light of the single lamp. 

_"Please Mark......"_ There was such a deep entreaty in her eyes. Tears filling her bottom lids and spilling down her face. 

His hand reached up, touching them as if to stem the flow. Turning her face to the side, she kissed his palm.  
Then laying her own hand over his, she gripped it carefully. Controlling it's movement. 

Bringing it slowly down until it rested over her bare breast. Keeping it there. 

"My heart is beating too Mark.....I'm alive. Joe died.....but I didn't......feel for yourself......it's real. It's flesh and blood......"  
A sob of quiet desperation came from her, her lip trembling, fighting to control, not to break down and beg him on her knees to just give her......something...... _anything_......

Asking him a silent question with just a look. 

Beneath his hand her breast was so pliant and supple. Soft and malleable, it's prominence seemingly moulded perfectly to fit his fingers.  
The delicate roseate of her nipple hardening against his thumb. But he didn't try to pull away. 

"Oh Christ! " A sharp intake of breath, a distinct flush coming to his cheeks. "Please don't cry sweetheart.....I can't bear to see it....."

"I'm sorry.....but it's so raw tonight Mark.....and I need to feel something that isn't grief. Can you understand?" 

Pulling himself up until he was almost sitting he edged closer. Lips seeking hers as if she were fashioned from the most fragile of porcelain.  
She tasted salty, where her tears had trickled freely. A tremble ran through her at the soft touch of his mouth. 

"More than you can possibly imagine." He whispered, his lips millimetres from hers. Warm breath against her face.  
She let out a little gasp as his left hand continued to fondle her, cupping the roundness of her breast, drawing back to glance down at her body as he did so. 

"You're so lovely darling." Her eyes grew dark as he stared back into them. "You're far too good for the likes of me Marnie....how can you want me? How can you even bear to look at me, let alone touch me?" 

Her smile was once of solicitude. Filled with distress and pity at his self loathing. 

"Don't do yourself down Mark......you are the loveliest man. If you'll take this top off, I'll prove it to you...." She tugged at the base of his shirt gently.  
"You don't have to make love to me, not if you don't want to.....but can't we just be skin to skin, so we can really feel......just to have that sensation......touch each other......please Mark.....can we?" 

Mark Jenkins closed his eyes. Oh.....but he _did_ want to! So badly. 

But what would she think of him? Such an inadequate lover. Quite certain he'd perform woefully. If at all. Couldn't possibly hope to satisfy one such as her. 

He couldn't do it. 

When his eyes opened again, she was standing at the bedside, removing her bottoms. Revealing herself. Completely naked, in front of him. 

She was still crying quietly and it broke his heart. A little sniffle and a hitch of breath. 

How could he turn away from her now? 

Rejecting the love she offered him freely. Without condition. 

Watching her avidly. Taking it all in. Every inch of her exposed to his devouring gaze. As he remained there, dumbly on the mattress, hugging his knees. 

Crawling onto the bed, kneeling by his side, she gave him a look of appeal. 

Deliberately disrobing himself in front of her was a painful thing. Arms defensively around his middle in an effort to hide it. Boxers stubbornly remaining on.

They hid his body's obvious reaction to seeing hers in all its glory. 

"You have nothing whatever to worry about.....never think that....the way you look.....I like it.....you're human Mark....not a God, not an angel....but a man. With all the blemishes and frailties that us humans have. It's what makes you _you_. How could that ever be abhorrent to me?" Her voice so earnest, so truthful, such gentleness.  
He wanted nothing more than to sink gratefully into her embrace. 

She drew close to him then, her hands stroking down the sides of his arms slowly. Establishing eye contact. Giving a tentative smile. 

"It's what drew me to you, it's what made me fall in love with you....."

Her breasts were pressed against his bare chest, his hands searching for a comfortable place, now resting on her hips, keeping her back slightly from the part of him which now ached so terribly.  
A kiss. Two. Exploring. Her tongue touching his lips. 

"Touch me Mark..... _please_....." She murmured, deepening the kiss now, setting him on fire with desire for her. Her hands wandering over him. In his hair, around his neck, down his back, working their way closer to where he throbbed with need. 

The potential for him to fuck this up was so great. At worst he could turn her off completely, revolt her, not be good enough, thus losing her forever. At best he could at least give her some sensation of pleasure she might enjoy and possibly want more of.  
His hopes were not high. 

All his own blood flow seemed to be heading one way. Making him light headed. Dizzy with lust.  
It was as he'd felt on the 'puffin day' only ten times stronger.

Feeling her palm pressed against him, straining now against the material of his boxer shorts. His brain short circuited. 

Had she actually touched his bare cock, he would have been unable to prevent himself exploding almost immediately. It was a mercy he was still clothed there. Gave him a few extra precious moments. Enabled him to hold off just long enough. 

The sound that left her as his fingers moved between her legs was something he'd never forget as long as he lived. It was as if she were falling. A sinking moan of surrender, which made his own heart pound in his chest. 

Tilting her head back, mouth open slightly, eyes closed. Little beads of perspiration pricking her temples, dampening her hair. 

Ye Gods! There was no way _she_ was fucking human......she was a Goddess. 

He just _had_ to gaze at her. Couldn't take his eyes from her flushed face. Sheer adoration.  
Dare not look down to see what his hand was doing.....blindly moving his fingers, parting her velvet skin there, feeling his way. Mapping the contours of her, every fold of her soft warmth.  
Each touch brought a fresh gasp as he explored, gauging from her reactions whether he was in the right place.....a twitch, an arch of her body, a jolt forwards, presenting her beautiful breasts to him. 

She was so hot, so wet, moving herself rhythmically against his digits, as he circled gently, then a little more firmly.  
He pulled her into him with the other arm, kissed her deeply again, his tongue entering her mouth as his finger slid inside her. 

It was at that moment that he felt a change. Her rhythm lost. Unravelling in his embrace. Her core pressed into his. She came undone before his very eyes. 

In spite of all his lack of confidence in his own abilities. 

He'd managed it! 

She was coming. 

He was almost euphoric. 

Giving a series of tight breaths and a final desperate gasp, he actually felt her let go. Contracting beneath his fingers, shuddering, undulating her body against his. Pressing firmly against his manhood every time.  
He let out a cry of anguish as he pulsed himself. Spurting into his own pants, a warm and milky stain appearing and spreading through the cotton fabric.  
But it didn't matter, he was beyond caring.  
Pressed tightly against him as the throes began to subside, clinging to him as they fell backwards into the pillows together.  
Entwined. 

She was weeping, but deliriously happy. He felt as if in some crazy, drug induced state. Where reality had merged into the dream world. Everything else melted away into a haze of delicious forgetfulness.  
Sated beyond anything he'd experienced for a very long time.  
Floating. 

They lay, damp and sweaty. Unable to move. Unable to vocalise, beyond animal sounds. 

Breathing raggedly together. 

Mark's mouth was as dry as a bone. Desperately thirsty. His hand still cupping her between her thighs.  
Trapped there by the proximity of their bodies.  
Her breasts close to his face. Ribs expanding and contracting beneath his head, her hands in his hair. Stroking. Fingers combing. Soothing. 

Slowly returning to the realms of sanity. 

"I love you, Marnie." He choked, when he was finally able to speak, raising his head to look at her. "So much." 

Her reply was to place a kiss to his clammy forehead. 

"Oh Mark! I love you too. That was so wonderful.....you have absolutely no idea....." she sniffed, then pressed his head back down to cradle him where he lay. 

Both satisfied. Exhausted.

oOo

_In the movies, after a night of passion, the main protagonists wake in the morning looking as if they've just stepped out of the beauty salon.....perfectly coiffured, make-up intact, pristine...._

_Yeah, right!_

Mark opened his eyes and yawned cavernously. 

He tried to move, but couldn't. 

Marnie was lying partly beneath him, spread out like a beached starfish, with him wedged slightly over the top half of her body. The weight of her arms pinning him down against her own chest.  
She was still asleep. Hair a tousled tangle of knots, resembling a birds nest.  
Panda eyes, from sleep and from crying.  
Her mouth was wide open and she gave a series of little grunting snorts as she slept. 

Now, this might have made Mark smile, had he not been so damned uncomfortable. 

His own right arm, jammed under her, had gone numb, and when he moved it, it was like someone running a stinging nettle up and down his skin. 

Scratching at his rough stubbly chin. A pool of dribble beneath his cheek, squashed as it had been, almost between her breasts.  
But that wasn't the half of it.... _oh no_.....

....as he tried to prise himself from her limpet embrace, he discovered that his boxers were somehow cemented to him......

"For fucks sake.....!" 

Dried to a crispy potato chip consistency, pulling painfully on his pubic hair.  
Removing them was going to be like ripping off a sticking plaster...... _from his cock_......

As he was trying to work out how to extricate himself, whilst clinging on to at least a modicum of dignity, and without debriding his own penis, Marnie gave a final terrific piglike snore, and woke up. 

Smacking her parched lips, pushing her fuzz of hair from her eyes with one hand.....realising her position, and his. 

"God! How much wine did we drink? And how the hell did we fall asleep like this?" She spoke aloud, addressing the ceiling, or the room in general. "Why did we not have a shower.....or a wash even.....?"

Her hand strayed to Marks hair, caressing it gently. 

"You awake pet?" She whispered. 

"Mmm hmm." 

Releasing him from her vice like grip she tried to sit up. Rubbing her eyes with her knuckles. Then noticing that her fingers were now coal black with mascara. She groaned. 

"God.....what must I look like?" 

Mark rolled onto his back with a yelp and a whimper. He had a massive crick in his neck, as well as his other, far more pressing problems. 

"Trust me Marnie..... _nothing_ on your face could be worse than what's on my pants....." 

Lifting the covers gingerly, she peered down at his nether regions. 

"Ouch! That's not good....." then she began to giggle uncontrollably. 

"Glad you think it's fucking funny." He said grumpily. "This is my punishment....that's what it is! Fucking karma....biting me on the.... _whatever_....for having the first decent orgasm I've had since Thatcher was prime minister." 

Marnie reached over and pulled him towards her, kissing him on the lips, dry and cracked though they were. 

"I'll let you go in the shower first." She laughed. "You need it most.....I'll go and make us some tea." 

Swinging her legs from the bed, she stretched, arms in the air, arching her back. Gloriously unashamed of her nude body. Looking in the mirror with a grimace. 

"Oh my Lord! Devastatingly attractive Driscoll!" Frowning at her reflection. 

Crossing to the window and pulling back the curtain a tiny chink. 

"Well! It's a nice morning anyway." She remarked. Then noticed Mark's phone on her dressing table.  
Plugged in to recharge. It was flashing. 

"Looks like you've got a message." 

Picking it up, she disconnected it, and sashayed over to where he lay inert, trying to summon the courage to move. 

"Marnie.....could you just..... _you know_....." He waved an arm in her general direction, whilst averting his gaze. ".....cover yourself up a bit." 

Looking down at her own body, unabashed, she smiled broadly. 

"Does it bother you that much?" She responded. 

"It's not that.....seriously Marnie....believe me....the sight of you is fucking marvellous....but if I get hard in this state I think I might actually be forced to have these boxers surgically removed." 

Her giggle was girlish, but she reached for a silk robe to spare his agony and his blushes, tying it around herself, before handing over his phone. 

"I switched the bloody thing to silent." He explained, taking it, scrolling idly. Then stopped suddenly, turning pale. 

"Fuck......there's loads of messages.....and a voice mail.......what the.....Christ Marn! It's from Sid....." 

All thoughts of discomfort were brushed aside, as he sat up urgently. 

"Something's happened.....must have....." 

Concerned now, she seated herself at his side, one hand on his arm, watching as he held the phone to his ear and listened. 

_"Dad....hi.....it's me._ *sniffling* _I've sent you texts......listen, me and Cass are at the hospital....something terrible has happened to Chris. He collapsed last night. They think he may have had subarachnoid haemorrhage....._ *more sniffling* _Fuck.....Dad....it's really bad.....apparently it's the same hereditary thing that killed his brother....he's had it all this time but never told anyone....._ *a pause, crying in the background* _Listen Dad, I gotta go.....Cassie's upset....Dad, I need you here....where are you? Please.....we don't know what to do, how to get hold of his family.....he's got to have emergency surgery.....call me when you get this....please...."_

"Oh holy fuck!" Mark leapt from the bed. Handing the phone to Marnie, who listened to the message herself.  
Eyes widening in horror. 

Meanwhile Mark was pulling off his soiled boxers, heedless of his pain or his nakedness, hopping on one foot as he put on clean ones. Grabbing his trousers, shirt fastened on the wrong buttons. 

"I gotta go......fuck....shit.....I was wrong Marnie..... _THIS_ is my punishment......for being here....with you.....having fun.....if I'd been at home....." 

"Oh Mark.....that's ridiculous.....don't beat yourself up over that.....it isn't your fault.....please....don't feel guilt for last night.....it was so wonderful...... _please_.....I'm begging you....." 

Following him as he thundered down the stairs. Grabbing his jacket and fumbling for his car keys. Whilst simultaneously trying to prise on his shoes.

"Mark.....stop......just for a second.....please.....don't make this about us......"

With one hand on the door handle, he turned. The face that looked at hers was almost crazed with guilt and worry. Apologetic but ashamed. 

He had been with a woman, messing around..... _while his son needed him_.

It was reprehensible. 

"Mark. You are _not_ to blame for this. You couldn't possibly have known.....neither of us could."

"I'm a parent.....supposed to be a responsible adult.....of course I'm culpable.....he's 17..... _for fucks sake_....and I wasn't there when he needed me...." 

She kissed him lightly, stroking his face. 

"Call me? Let me know what's going on? Please, Mark.....I love you." 

"I gotta go."


	12. Everyone. (Part Deux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is to undergo surgery. Jal has a big decision to make. Michelle is there for her. 
> 
> Mark and Marnie draw closer.... 
> 
> Sid does something stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed a couple of things here, whilst, I hope, still keeping to the essence of what's in the show.  
> Jal gives Chris her lucky coin, not in the corridor on his way to surgery, but in his room before he leaves. 
> 
> The scene with Jal and Michelle under the duvet actually takes place in the show, just before Chris's funeral. I've changed it and put it before Chris dies.
> 
>  
> 
> It is a chapter of contrasts.  
> The extreme low of Chris's demise, juxtaposed with the high of Mark and Marnie's burgeoning relationship. 
> 
> *'Got im Himmel' means God in Heaven in German.
> 
> (Chris's death scene is pretty much as it happens in the show. Just with my own embellishments.)

EPISODE TWELVE.  
EVERYONE (part two)

The hospital linen was starched white. 

Against it Chris's face looked grey. 

Jal looked down at him, hardly recognising the features of the young man she'd kissed, loved, slept with. 

One hand clasping his, the other over her own stomach. 

"I'm pregnant Chris. I'm carrying your baby.....and I don't know what to do....."

There was no response. Not even the slightest flicker. 

Cassie and Michelle entered behind her quietly. Each placing their arms around her shoulders. 

"He'll come through Jal.....he's made of durable stuff.....think of the things he's done in the past.....he's always come out on top, he will this time." 

"Oh 'Chelle, I don't know what to do for the best. I really don't. I spoke to the doctor. He said it's a genetic weakness.....that it can be passed down......" No tears came. Because she was beyond crying. 

"Have you told your Dad yet?" Cassie's voice was filled with sympathy. 

Her friend nodded. 

"What did he say?"

"He said it'll ruin my life and I should get rid of it." 

"It's your life to ruin though sweetheart, not his. Ultimately the decision is yours, it's your body." 

"But what if he doesn't make it Cass? I'll be left to bring up a child on my own, a child that may ultimately be sick....like Chris and his brother....." 

At that moment a jcloth covered head peeped in through the door. A doctor, in green theatre garb. 

"We are ready for him now, love." He said, with a little smile. 

"Ok. Give me a moment." She turned to her girlfriends. "Leave me alone with him for a second, can you?" She murmured. 

Silently the two women left the room. 

Taking his cool hand in her own gently, Jal held it close to her belly. 

"Please come back Chris. Don't leave me all alone like this. I love you. " 

Prising open his fingers she placed a coin in his palm. 

"This is my lucky coin. I won it on the gaming machine. It's yours now. To keep you safe." 

Closing his hand around it, she bent, kissing his forehead gently before hurrying away. 

oOo

Mark pushed open the swing doors and ran down the corridor. 

His eyes scanned the reception area, spotting a small knot of pale, tired looking youngsters standing by the coffee machine. 

Michelle was numbed and appeared lost. 

Maxxie and Anwar sitting side by side on plastic chairs. Speaking in low voices. 

Tony wandering up and down, eating a Mars bar. 

Cassie, standing, her arms locked around Sid's middle, head resting on his shoulder wearily. 

Giving the other members of the group a cursory nod, he touched his son's arm gently. 

"Sid." 

The relief on the young man's face was palpable. 

"Dad! Thank God! Where were you? I couldn't get hold of you." 

"I'm so sorry son. Really! But I'm here now."

Sid fell on his father's shoulder, his own shaking. Mark encircled the pair of them, drawing them both into an embrace. 

"It's okay. It's okay. Let it go." He whispered softly. "Did you manage to contact the Miles's?" 

"I did." Cassie spoke, muffled against Mark's shirt. "I knew where they lived, Chris took Jal there once....to see his new baby half brother. I think they've sent someone round. No one knows where his mum is though. Chris's dad isn't in contact with her. It's so awful." 

"There. It's alright lass. I know you're upset. There's nowt any of you can do now, just wait, and hope. Time will tell. He's a strong lad. A fighter. He'll pull through.....somehow." 

The two clung to him as if he were parent to them both. Not letting go. 

This was a traumatic event for all of them. Facing mortality was not an experience young people thought to have. The shock was etched on all their faces. 

"Let's go find the canteen, get a hot cuppa...." Mark suggested, as Jal emerged chillingly calm, from Chris's room. 

She looked determined now. Her face set. Jaw firm. 

Releasing her grip on Mark, Cassie went to her, and was joined by Michelle. The three girls in solidarity. 

"I'm going to leave for a while." She told them quietly. "He'll be in surgery for hours. I'm going to go away, and think. By myself." 

"You're sure we can't be with you. For support." Michelle stroked a hand down her friend's arm comfortingly. 

"No. Thanks. I want to be alone for a bit. I'll see you later." 

Peeling away, she walked off down the corridor purposefully. Neither wavering nor looking back. 

oOo

 _.....some days later...._..

The sheet above the two girls covered and protected them both. 

Such a flimsy thing, just a tent of cotton, but it was like a suit of armour, or a steel carapace, offering much needed shelter. 

A place of safety where neither could be reached.....

It was to Michelle's house that Jal had run...afterwards. 

Who else would she turn to in her hour of most need? 

Her oldest and dearest friend, in spite of their ups and downs. 

The welcome she received was everything she'd hoped for and more. 

Thank God. 

In Michelle's bed. Under the canopy. Wrapped in her arms. Holding right around her middle as if to keep her from falling. 

She was, wasn't she? 

Falling. 

Down and down into an abyss from which there was no escape. Only a pair of flesh and blood limbs to keep her from disappearing over the edge forever. 

"It's done 'Chelle." 

"Then you've made the right decision." 

"How do I know that? I've ended a life. Something growing inside me. But I couldn't go through with it....I just couldn't......there were so many reasons why." 

"Jal, you don't have to justify yourself to me."

"But I want to. I feel so empty....like it's not just a foetus they've sucked out.....but a part of me too." 

"Darling...if you had decided to keep it.....then that would have been absolutely the right thing to do. But you didn't. You decided that it must be terminated. So what you've done is right. 100%. There's no grey here, just black and white." 

"Chris seems to be recovering well. The Doctors say he'll be allowed home by the end of the week. Oh 'Chelle! I had such plans. My music, my whole future.....I stood to loose everything.....but I feel so utterly selfish."

"And you'll fulfill those plans. You'll get through the exams, you'll do well.....and you'll follow your star. This isn't an ending Jal....it's a beginning. A fresh start. Anything could happen with Chris....or nothing......nothing is certain. To bring a child into the world at 17.....and then risk being potentially left alone to care for it?  
That's not selfish sweetheart....that's sensible." 

"I _WAS_ thinking of the baby as well as myself. Honestly I was. Neither Mum nor Dad would have wanted to help. I'd have no money, nowhere to live.....no career and no life. The baby would have suffered because of it. That's not fair.....is it? Not to any child. No kid deserves that. God, I must be so hard.....I can't even cry." 

"We've been friends since we were 4 years old, Jalander Fazer.......I've never once known you to do anything without first giving it a great deal of thought. You can't cry because you know in your heart it was the right thing to do. I truly believe that." 

"Thanks 'Chelle. Just hold me will you? Just for a while.....I just need to sleep for a bit. I'm so sore and tired." 

"Of course I will. Always. No matter what. I'll be right here." 

Closing her eyes, she slipped away. Into the blissful realms of slumber. Firmly held, warm, safe.  
Everything else faded into oblivion.  
The world continued turning. Life carried on. Breathing in and breathing out. Michelle asleep tucked in beside her. 

Just for one hour, Jal had perfect peace, removed from all the mayhem.....

 

.......Chris was resplendent in his bed at home. 

Ministering angels came to him at regular intervals. 

In the shape of Cassie mainly.....since she resided in the same flat. But Jal too, and even Sid. 

He was fed and helped to wash. His dressings were changed. Given a fresh bed to sleep in. Allowed to rest and recover. 

Both Jal and Sid, and most of the others who called in to visit him, were embroiled in the inky depths of exam fever.  
Only Cassie was free of such turmoil. 

She played him music, she read to him. Sat with him while he slept. Spoon fed him at first when it was too much effort to sit up. 

Each day he grew stronger. Spending more time up and about. 

Under her's and his other close friend's tender care he flourished. He also realised something quite profound. 

He was loved. 

All was, once again, right with his world. 

oOo

 _.......later in the evening after Chris's surgery......_.

Marnie's tone was soft, the Geordie lilt that he loved so much, gentle. Filled with concern.

"You're not still beating yourself up over this, I hope pet......?" 

Mark didn't raise his head from where it lay cradled in her lap. Her hand stroking gently through his hair. 

Heaving a sigh, but not responding vocally. Drawing his knees up a little closer to his own body as he lay curled beside her. 

".......because it's nothing to do with you....or me....or what we were doing. It's just one of those things." 

A sniffle. Nothing more. 

".......I'm sure Sid doesn't blame you either. You went as soon as you heard. You were there for him, and for Cassie too." 

There was a pain, somewhere deep in his chest. One that just wouldn't go away. When he eventually found his voice it was cracked and broken. 

"They were so shocked.....Marn.....all of them. Like they'd been smashed with a massive hammer blow. Reeling from it they were. Lost. Like they didn't know what the fuck had hit them....." 

"Eee, I'm sure they were, pet. When you're young you think you're immortal don't you? You don't think about age, illness or death's vicious sting. Nothing can touch yers.....and then when it does.....it knocks the stuffing clean out of you." 

"I had to come back here.....I couldn't keep away.......couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be....." 

"I'm glad you did.....I was worried you wouldn't...."

"Do you mind if I have a shower, love? I feel soiled somehow, do you understand? Like nothing can wash me clean. Sorta grubby. You know?"

Her arms encircled him, leaning down she placed a kiss against his temple.

"Aye. I know. It's your deeply ingrained sense of propriety. Away upstairs pet, and I'll find you a towel."

Standing under the shower spray, Mark allowed it to pound down upon him, head bowed, hands placed flat against the back wall.  
Water temperature whacked up to blistering hot.

It soothed away the feelings that had been building in him throughout the day. Or at least made him feel better about having them.  
Memories of the night before which were as fresh now as they were at the time. 

Leaving him shaky and filled with a sense of deep longing. 

He wanted love. 

Marnie's love. 

With every fibre of his being. 

Famished, starving for want of it, right to the pit of his stomach. A hunger that would not be assuaged. 

To be close to her in the most intimate way. He could think of nothing else. 

For so long now he'd pushed these feelings down. Ignored them or rode himself through them. Now they were not to be denied.  
His cock rose in anticipation. 

Looking down at himself, he frowned. 

_'For fucks sake! Not now....not yet'!_

Switching the tap to cold, he doused himself, giving a yelp, almost taking his breath away, temporarily damping down the raging fire within him. He needed a little time. To get his head right. Wasn't sure quite how he was going to broach the subject. 

He was just towelling himself dry when a tap came on the bathroom door. 

"You okay in there pet? I heard a cry. I thought you'd gone down the plug hole!"

"Yeah....I'm just out.....hey....Marn...?"

"What is it?"

"You got any razors? I want a shave....."

"Back of the cupboard over the sink....there's a pack of plastic Bic in there.....and some foam I use to shave my legs with.....it's all I've got I'm afraid!" 

She listened through the door to the sound of the bathroom cabinet opening and closing. 

"Got them?"

"Nope.....can't find them....." 

A pause.

"Well maybe I moved them then.....if you let me in I'll have a look for you....." 

Hearing a click as the lock was turned. 

"You decent?" She opened the door a tiny crack. 

"Yeah...." 

Marnie didn't quite expect the sight that met her eyes. Nor the lurch that hit right to her core and between her legs which came as something of a surprise. 

Mark was still damp and shiny. His hair wet, looking darker, slicked back from his forehead. A towel wrapped around his waist like a sarong. Bare top half.  
She sniffed the air appreciatively. 

"Mmmmm...it smells all flowery in here." She smiled, placing a kiss on the top of his fragrant shoulder. 

"It's your poncy shower gel, that's what it is." He complained, giving a little gasp at the touch of her lips to his bare skin. 

"Shall I go.....leave you to it.....?" Handing over the razor and shaving foam she'd found.....at the back of the cupboard.....just where she said it was! 

"You don't have to, you can stay if you want......talk to me....." 

Her eyebrows raised, _'well, Mark Jenkins, you certainly are a creature of contradictions',_ she thought. 

Lowering the toilet lid, she sat herself down upon it. Knees up, hugging them.  
Watching, mesmerised, as he lathered his face liberally, then began to plough furrows through the foam, starting with his cheeks, pausing periodically to rinse off the blade in the sink. 

"Feel better for the shower?" She ventured. 

"Much."

"That's good. What happened at the hospital?" 

Mark was carefully smoothing the razor downwards, beneath his large nose, as far as his top lip. Unable to reply for a moment as he concentrated. 

"Chris will be in surgery first, then on ICU.....they said it would be a good while. I gave Sid some money to take Cassie to get something to eat. The hospital's gonna call Jal when he comes round. I think his Dad arrived too, just before I left. Looked devastated. Poor bastard."

"God! I bet he did, he's already been through it once with Chris's brother, I understand." 

Lifting his chin now, Marnie almost salivated as her eyes followed the track of the blade over his Adams Apple and upwards over his throat and neck. His genuine innocence of his own allure was astonishing.   
Fuck.....did he even _realise_ how erotic this was? 

"Do you have anything I can slap on?"

"No aftershave. Only some Nivea moisturising balm.....that do?" 

"Great. Thanks." 

Wiping away the excess suds with the towel, he turned and met her eyes. His face was now pink and fresh, scented and smooth as a baby's bottom.  
A little blob of the moisturiser rubbed into his palms, then applied to his newly raw cheeks and neck, with a hiss.

"What?" He challenged, puzzled by her rapt expression. 

Shaking her head, dazed, trying to regain focus. 

"Nothing!" 

He frowned. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" 

"Like what?"

"Like I'm fucking coloured bright blue."

"I wasn't." 

"You bloody were! What's the matter?" 

Rising, she moved to stand close in front of him. Placing her two hands on his pectorals. 

"I was just thinking how gorgeous you look.......how much I want to kiss you." 

In response his eyes darkened instantly. 

"Fuck....Marnie! Don't tease me like that. It's not fair." 

She smoothed her hands down towards his stomach, her eyes never leaving his. 

"Believe me.....I'm _not_ teasing. Seeing you like this.....it's doing things to me that I can hardly bear to think about."

"Seriously? What me? But I'm not....." 

Her mouth was very close to his. Lips almost touching. 

"You're not what Mark?" She whispered, thickly. "Attractive? Kind? Gentle? Affectionate? Lovable? All of the above?"

Mark Jenkins could scarcely breathe. 

"Fuck....I was only thinking, _'not much to look at'_......"

He curled his bare toes against the bath mat he was standing on. Unsure whether to clasp her to him, or hang on to the towel around his waist for dear life.  
He chose the former. 

Their lips met, softness against softness. A deep and long kiss which left him feeling dizzy and disorientated. 

Drawing back from her he realised two things, one, that the towel had fallen away. The other, that she'd undoubtedly helped it on it's way. His erect cock now standing proudly between them.  
Glancing down she gave him a coquettish little smile. 

"Naughty!" She cooed, caressing him there.

Mark's legs almost gave way. Unable to prevent himself thrusting forwards into her palm. Closing his eyes, as she stroked him, her fingers lingering around the most sensitive part.

He was gone. Lost in sensation. 

"Can we?" He begged, his voice hushed almost to reverence. Eyes downcast in supplication. 

"Not here! Come with me...."

"Oh God.....Marn...!"

No further verbal reply did she give, just subtle pressure of her other hand against his chest, guiding him gently but firmly out of the bathroom, backwards across the bedroom carpet until his knees came into contact with the edge of the bed.  
Almost tumbling backwards, bending them just in time, seating himself rather than letting himself fall, as she followed him down. 

He was so sexually excited that he knew he needed some time to calm himself, simmer down, otherwise he would come at the slightest touch. He was desperate not to, so as not to disappoint her, he wanted so badly to be what she wanted.....even though he didn't know for sure what that was.  
To satisfy her, make her want him more.....satiate her lust whilst giving her exquisite pleasure, and still, hopefully, deriving some enjoyment himself. 

It was a tough ask. 

"You're wearing way too many clothes love....." 

"Then I suggest you remedy the situation...."

Experience told him not to rush. 

His arms surrounded her carefully, lowering her back onto the pillows.  
Trembling fingers reaching under her to remove her skirt, unfastening her shirt buttons, pulling it aside, taking his time, enjoying the delicious sensory experience of undressing her.  
Exposing her inch by perfect inch. Listening to the little sounds of encouragement she was making. 

Drawing out each moment. Mapping across her beautiful skin with his fingertips. Tentative, his touch eliciting gasps of delight.  
Pausing at the delicate lace of her bra, stroking pert pink nipples which peaked seductively through. Kissing her along the cleft between her breasts.  
Relishing the feel of every little mole on her taut stomach, the feminine curve of her hip, beneath which a gentle dip which led him down towards her knickers, made of the same pretty patterned lace as the bra. Looking up at her from time to time to confirm that it was okay to continue.  
Touching her first over the material, judging by the little moans she gave, that he was doing something right. Moving them aside, tight against her leg, before pulling them gently down and off, exploring her tenderest flesh for the first time in broad daylight.  
Able to see what he was doing, feel her juices on his fingers. Knowing his own were flowing just as freely as he became more and more aroused. 

One hand clutched at the bedcovers by her side, bunching them into her fist. The other closed around his shaft, making him groan involuntarily, committing every inch of him to memory, every ridge and vein, slowly moving towards the tip, pausing then sliding back down to the root, causing him to buck and push into her palm at the contact. Thick and heavy in her small hand. 

He was not going to last if she continued, too fast, too soon. 

"Ah, _ah!_ " He chided, backing himself away from her reach. 

He let his mouth play down across her belly, kneeling between her legs, parting them, his hands caressing her inner thighs.  
At the feel of his warm, wet tongue against her she let out a desperate moan. Lifting her pelvis off the bed towards his mouth helplessly. 

"You like that darling?" He murmured, repeating the exercise until she was writhing and whimpering with need. Beyond coherent speech, except for pleas of _"Yes, yes...."_ and _"please"._

Fuck, how he throbbed!  
His cock was so sensitive he knew he couldn't allow her to touch him again. A brief vision of himself in her mouth flitted across his mind, but he couldn't take it. It would be too much.  
So he returned to his own ministrations. Loved doing it to her, listening to her ever more frantic sounds above him, feeling her movement as he pleasured her. 

He brought her close. Agonisingly close. Then eased back, kissing above her pubic bone and stomach purposefully, as she panted, begging him urgently for more. Almost crying with frustration. Completely undone. He sensed instinctively what she wanted from him, a little teasing.

"What would you like......sweetheart.....tell me?" Whispering close to her ear now, as his thumb circled against her clitoris, not firmly enough to get her off, but maddeningly inflaming her desire. 

"I want _you._ " She whispered, seeking his lips with hers. "Please Mark....I need to feel you inside me....please. I want it so badly......"

"You've had enough playtime?" The Glaswegian tone had become stronger, more confident, salacious even, a deep rumble in his throat. Fuck! He was starting to enjoy himself! 

"You want my tongue again or my cock? Tell me what you want......I need to hear you say it." 

Her eyes were wide open. Boring into his with desperate entreaty. His new found boldness excited her. Breathless words pouring out of her mouth. 

"I want you to fuck me Mark......deep......it's been so long since....since.....I'll do anything.....don't leave me hanging anymore....please....I need it, _you_......to feel you filling me.....I want you to love me.....it's _all_ I want....."

"You're sure you're ready for this?" 

He couldn't remember ever being so hard. Engorged, weeping, horny as hell. 

Normally so unadventurous and unsure of himself in bed, right now he felt powerful, not a feeling he was regularly used to experiencing! He wasn't sure quite where it had come from. 

Raising himself. Showing what he had to her....not that he'd ever been particularly proud of it, but it was clearly what she most desired right now.  
At the sight of him her pupils dilated to their fullest extent, burning with pure lust.  
"Oh my God....." She breathed. ".....you're a fucking sight for sore eyes, I need to feel _that_...now....Mark, don't make me wait any longer, give it to me....please...."

"Open your legs wider for me then......" She obeyed instantly, watching avidly as he positioned himself. Placing her hands on his hips the better to guide him.  
At the moment of penetration Mark saw coloured lights through his closed eyes, easing himself until he was fully sheathed inside her, before withdrawing almost completely, then sinking in again. 

Mark Jenkins did not do fast and furious. He did slow and sensual, giving her his full length, rocking his hips forwards with each thrust.  
He didn't know it, but he was hitting her G spot each time, giving her such jolts of electric pleasure that she could do nothing but gasp and moan under him.  
Gripping his buttocks, her legs high and wide. Willing him on. 

Attuned to her movement. He sensed a change in her breathing pattern, rhythm faltering, she whimpered his name, just at the moment she heard the hiss from him that meant he was nearing completion. 

When her release came it was like a juggernaut of sensory overload. Cries and groans rising in magnitude until she let go. Melting against him with a long protracted sigh, holding him tighter.  
So thankful he'd been able to hold off....incredulous that somehow he'd found the stamina.  
He surrendered to her just as fully as she did to him. 

Volcanic in his intensity. Pulsing from him in waves of ecstatic pleasure. He was living and dying equally, all in those few moments. 

"Oh fuck!" He cried, as his arms finally gave way. She didn't seem to mind. Clasping him to her as the throes died away and they began to calm.  
Both floating on a tidal wave of emotion and love. 

Excelling even his own meagre expectations ten fold. 

Christ....he was Mark Jenkins....he was a fucking Sex God......

.....and she? 

Well, she was a Goddess.....

......but he knew that anyway. 

Just wasn't aware _he_ had it in him. 

An amusing and triumphant thought suddenly hit him. 

_'Where the fuck are you now Manfred? Now who's got the biggest fucking bratwurst? Eh?'_

_'Got im Himmel' *_

oOo

Leaning against the wall in the lounge doorway, Cassie folded her arms and gave the back of Chris's head her best frown. 

Propped against sofa back, among the cushions, her young friend took a drag on the reefer and exhaled, closing his eyes as the buzz hit him. 

_"Chris!"_ She tried to keep the scold from her tone but it was difficult. 

His languid, ridiculously happy expression as he swivelled round towards her melted her resolve to be cross with him. 

A little smile played across her face in return. 

"I bought you something."

Raising himself to look. The impish grin, a little twinkle in his eyes. 

She was quite used to seeing Chris in his pants....come to think of it, she was used to seeing him without them too.  
It didn't seem to bother him much. Sid had commented a couple of times, but more from the modesty angle than from jealousy. 

Chris had no notion of modesty.....

She held up the blue motif T shirt, waggling it slightly like a matador enticing a bull, her eyebrows raised in expectation, as she watched the obvious glee spread across his face. 

"Hey! This is so cool!" He kissed her warmly.  
She made a mental note that his gauze dressing was peeling off and needed changing. But that could wait. Right now she could enjoy his pleasure. 

Pulling the garment over his head he admired his reflection in the mirror...... _"Monkey Man"_.....how very fitting! 

Laughing joyfully as he smoothed it down. 

"You're the best mate ever......can't wait to show this to.....to......" 

The look on his face as he turned to her was perplexed. Furrowed brow. As if he were thinking very hard.  
The name on the tip of his tongue. Just beyond reach. Searching for it, but it wouldn't come. 

".....what's my girlfriend's name again?" 

His confusion was odd, but he was mucking about, wasn't he? 

Chris did things like that, always the joker. She smiled at him indulgently. 

"Don't be stupid...." 

A little frisson of fear washed through her however, as he lowered himself into a chair, shaking his head slightly as if to rid himself of the fogginess which seemed to be creeping over him. 

"This spliff.......I feel a bit........shit......." 

It was like that moment in a movie when the best fight sequence takes place and the whole scene goes into slo-mo, each movement carefully choreographed, precise and clearly defined......Cassie a mere bystander, outside the frame, a hapless voyeur, unable to influence the action. 

Watching him move unsteadily into his bedroom, following him as if in a daze. 

"Chris?.....Chris, you okay......?" 

Crawling onto the bed, laying down on top of the covers, he seemed to fold in on himself like a telescope. His forehead covered in a sheen of perspiration. 

His body commenced shaking all over. A quaking tremble which rattled his teeth. 

To her it was as if there was a sudden rush of blood to her heart as adrenaline kicked in, it began to pound in her chest like a hammer, thick and fast and urgent. 

Something was wrong......this wasn't Chris mucking about, this was Chris in serious trouble. 

In seconds she had emptied out the contents of her handbag onto her bed, grabbed her phone. Her hands shook so much she could barely dial. 

"SHIT! Come on......." 

Barking her instructions as briefly as possible before running back to her friend's side.

At the sight of him, her eyes widened in total shock. 

There was a pool of vomit all over the bedclothes, and when she turned him over a trickle of bright red blood came from his left nostril. She watched in horror as it meandered down and into his mouth. 

Placing one arm beneath his neck in an attempt to sit him up, his hand gripped hers so tightly it almost broke her fingers. Pupils dark and dilated, struggling to focus on her face. 

"Oh God! CHRIS! CHRIS!" 

"I got it......." He slurred, giving a tight, almost rictus smile. "......JAL!" 

He seemed to sink back then, like a balloon when the air is let out of it. 

She witnessed the very life leave him. 

His last breath. 

Just an exhale, then......nothing. 

The spirit departing so quietly and without fuss, that it almost seemed to her that he'd merely been switched off. Eyes staring blankly into hers, as if trying to imprint one last sight onto them before he perished. 

Melting back into the duvet cover, limp and lifeless. 

Cassie was so deeply shocked that she couldn't function. 

Her brain seized up completely. Not a sensible, coherent thought remained. 

Slowly, the clinging hand relaxed, its hold loosening. Releasing her from the death grip. 

Allowing him to gently sink down.  
An elastic fluidity about his body that was, frankly, nauseating. 

Fighting the urge to be sick. Retching in spite of herself. Trembling all over. Cold as ice. Still pale and wide eyed as she stared down at him. 

Her friend, her best friend really.  
One who never judged her, and for whom life was for living, nothing more complicated than that.  
But he wasn't there. Not any more. He'd left to go to another plane. 

Cassie wasn't even sure she believed in the afterlife. 

She liked to think there was such a place as heaven. Somewhere tranquil and safe. Somewhere where pain and sickness and worldly troubles ceased.  
But it seemed too good to be true. 

A pipe dream. 

Invented by those left behind to make the moment of parting easier.  
It was purely for the benefit of the living, to be able to think of their loved ones happy and free from care. 

Crawling backwards away from the inert form, who's glassy eyes now stared unseeing at the ceiling.  
One hand over her mouth to keep in the rising sob that threatened to overwhelm her. 

Then, as if something popped inside her head, she knew she had to get away. 

To run. 

To run and run and run. 

As far away as she possibly could. 

There was not a spare thought for anyone. Not Sid. Not her parents, nor her baby brother. No one. 

Grabbing a rucksack, she stuffed her belongings haphazardly inside. Ripping clothes from hangers. Toiletries from the shelves.  
Hairbrush. Toothbrush. 

Passport. 

Her money stash, that she'd saved from her various part time jobs. 

Before the ambulance even arrived at Chris's flat she was gone. 

Walking purposefully away down the darkened street. 

She didn't once look back. 

oOo

Mark Jenkins stood in the wings and watched his son fall apart. 

Just as he himself had done all those months before, when his wife walked out. 

The news of Chris's death filtered through fairly quickly on the grapevine. Everyone was talking about it. 

What people weren't discussing quite so vociferously was Cassie's disappearance. 

The gossip was mainly idle speculation. 

No one really knew where she'd gone. Just that she had. 

Sid received a single text. 

_"I'm going away for a bit. I need some space to get my head straight. Don't worry about me. I'll let you know where I am when I'm settled. Remember I love you Sid. Cass. Xxx"_

That was it. 

No explanation, no information, just a simple sentence.....which was a Death Sentence to him. 

Mercifully the exams were over. Otherwise it might have been far worse. 

Mark recalled his own thoughts, almost a portent......the day he'd seen the couple off at the station to Elgin....

.....black and white. Total love or nothing at all.  
That was how it was for these young people. They gave everything. No holds barred.  
Which was fine, until it all came crashing down. 

Arriving home from work, Mark would discover that Sid was still in bed, where he'd remained all day.  
He didn't eat properly. Rarely spoke more than in monosyllables.  
Sullen and detached.  
His room became a tip again. 

Pushing away those that loved him most, including his father, who watched helplessly from the sidelines. 

Apparently he gave no fucks about anything anymore. 

Evenings he would go out with his mates, come home late, completely hammered. 

Night after night. 

Then, came the situation he'd dreaded most.....in the early hours of one of these nights of self-destruction, Mark received a chilling phone call. 

It was from Sid's number....but it wasn't Sid.  
Drilling him to wakefulness. Half asleep, with Marnie curled beside him, he answered. 

"Sid?" 

"Hello? Mr Jenkins....it's not Sid, this is Michelle. Listen....Sid's down at the Flamingo club....and um....he's a bit worse for wear.....I'm really sorry to ring you, but he's not well.....I'm worried about him and I can't get him home....I don't know what to do....."

She sounded half cut herself. 

Marnie stirred beside him, sitting up. 

"What's happening?"

Mark clamped a hand over the phone. Speaking in a harsh whisper. 

"It's Michelle. Sid's in a bad way...." 

"Michelle love.....I'll come and get him......Flamingo you say? I'll be there as quick as I can."

Seated on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands through his hair as he tried to wake himself up.  
Her arms came around him comfortingly.

"Will you come back....after?" 

"No love....sounds bad....I'll take him home.....stay there with him....I'll call you...." 

"Okay, pet. I love you." 

"I love you too darling. Go back to sleep...I'll get dressed in the bathroom."

 

The sight that met his eyes when he pulled up outside the heaving maelstrom that was the nightclub, was not one that he wished to repeat in a hurry. 

Sid....slumped on the pavement outside. Having been kicked out by the bouncers.  
Michelle kneeling in the dirt beside him, holding his head. 

He was practically unconscious. 

She looked so relieved to see Mark as he hurried over. 

"Christ Almighty!" 

The state of him! 

Unable to either stand or walk.  
Puke all over his shirt.  
Stinking of booze.  
Crying and rambling incoherently. 

Bending down at his son's side, his father prised up both eyelids in turn, felt his wrist for the rapid shallow pulse.

Pupils dilated, eyes rolling around inside his head alarmingly. 

"Has he taken something Michelle, love? Do you know what it was?" 

Her pretty face crumpled in reply. 

"I don't know....honestly...." She sobbed. " I was dancing, he was dancing....but then we got separated for about an hour or so.....next thing I saw the bouncers with him....chucking him out....he doesn't usually.....not pills....but he's been so terribly down since Cassie went...." 

"Come on my son.....let's get you up." 

Slinging Sid's limp arm around his own shoulder, he levered the young man to his feet. Turning back to his distraught companion. 

"Thank you for taking care. You want a lift home love?"

She shook her head, wiping her face, which now had two trails of makeup streaked down it.

"I'm 'sposed to be going home with Tony....."

"You're sure, it's almost 3am?" 

"Yeah. I'll be okay. Promise you'll look after Sid......" She started to weep again. ".....he's the best of all of us...."

 

When Sid Jenkins began to come to his senses, he found himself in his own bed. 

Spiralling up from some hateful nightmare where he was lost, alone and stumbling in the dark. 

Couldn't remember how he got there. No recollection of anything after about 11 o clock. 

He was washed and wearing a freshly laundered T shirt. 

Lying on clean sheets in a pristine and newly tidied room. 

His head felt as if wild horses had trampled on it. Mouth like the bottom of a parrots cage. 

As his eyes came into focus, he could see a blur.....someone familiar seated there. 

His dad. 

Dishevelled and unshaven. Looking ten years older. Dog tired. Face worn with care and worry and lack of sleep. 

A cool hand smoothed his brow. 

"Welcome back. You okay son?" 

In response there came a welling up. A Vesuvius of emotion that bubbled forth and broke in a torrent. 

"I'm so sorry Dad.....I was so fucking stupid.....please don't be angry with me....." 

Finding himself caught and held in a strong embrace that made him feel as if he might burst. One hand around his back firmly. The other holding his head. 

"It's alright Sid, son.....don't worry about all that now. As long as you're okay, that's all that matters." 

_How long had he slept? What time was it? What day even?_

From behind the entwined pair, the door opened quietly and an equally well recognised woman walked in. Carrying a mug of tea. 

Sid was astonished. 

_"Mum?"_

"You alright Sid? I bought you a cuppa.....glad to see you're finally awake. You had us worried for a bit there." 

He watched his parents exchange a meaningful glance and a soft smile. Looking from one to the other in confusion and incredulity. 

Surely this was a dream? 

He'd wake up properly in a moment, to find himself lying in the gutter somewhere. 

Could it be true? 

Somehow he'd woken from a massive bender and his mum and dad were miraculously back together? 

How was this even possible? 

His biggest wish come true?

Sinking back into the pillows. A damp flannel placed on his forehead. At peace. 

It felt so nice. 

He dozed off again. Waking a couple of hours later.  
Alone.  
Swinging his wobbly legs out of bed, making his way unsteadily towards the bathroom. 

Voices downstairs in the hall. 

Creeping to the landing bannisters he peered over.....listening.....his parents below, standing close....talking together quietly. 

"I appreciate you coming over love.....I wasn't sure I could handle this one alone...."

"I'm glad you called me. I'm thankful we were here together when the Paramedics came. Worth getting him checked over....and glad he didn't need to go to hospital. I think he'll be alright now, but if you need anything.....you know where I am."

Sid was confused.  
Paramedics? What Paramedics? He had absolutely no memory of this......fuck....he must have been really bad......

"Shit! I thought he was a gonner for a while there.....fuck knows what he took.....I blame myself....should have seen the signs.....he's grieving. For Chris.....and for Cassie too....."

"Mark.....love.....don't beat yourself up. It's not your fault. You did everything right. You've handled all this so well, I can't believe the way you've been there for him, the way you've coped with it all.....you've turned yourself around completely. Oh Lord! My ex-husband is a real grown up!  
It took me leaving to make you realise......but now you're twice the man you were....you really are! You're a credit to yourself.  
She's done you the world of good your new lass....I'd like to shake her by the hand! And you love her....I can see that." 

"I do. Thanks Liz. I'm glad you approve. That means a helluva lot." 

His mother's eyes were soft and kind. 

"Of course I approve silly! I didn't leave you because I wanted to make you miserable for the rest of your life Mark....you deserve to be happy too. Sid has changed too....he's a man now..."

"Michelle said something to me last night.....and it made me so proud, I almost cried." 

"What did she say?" 

"She said, _'take care of Sid, he's the best of all of us....'_ it fair broke me up." A slight hitch broke the voice. 

"Aww, c'mere." 

His father was drawn into a gentle hug by his mother. One which was heavy with meaning and mutual regard.  
A couple who had shared a history of more than twenty years of courtship, love and marriage, lived together, made a child together, and who could, now, for the first time in a very long while.....be friends. 

"You're a real father to him. He's very lucky. He loves you, I know he does. Sadly he still blames me for walking out...I know that too, but I hope he'll come round." 

"Oh, I don't think he does. He hated me equally for pushing you away. In fact I think he was very angry with both of us. Rightly so probably. We let him down I guess. But you'll always be his mum. And I've told him time and again that you're there for him whenever he needs you. Now perhaps he'll realise it." 

"I truly hope so. Tell him I'm sorry I had to go will you? But I've got a shift this afternoon at 2, so I need to go home, have a shower and change my clothes......and let me know....? How he's doing?" 

"Course I will. Christ Liz....I hate it that you have to go out to work shifts. Why won't you let me give you some money?"

"Darling, I don't need any more money from you! I've got my divorce settlement. I work because I enjoy it! It's my sanity. And anyway....there's only so much of Manfred I can put up with before I need to escape for a few hours! He's quite a handful....in more ways than one!" 

She winked, turned, and made for the front door. 

"Too much fucking information love! Listen....I'll call you tomorrow. Let you know how he is. Bye now.....thanks again for coming over to sit with him with me." 

The two exchanged a kiss on each cheek. A little awkward perhaps, but affectionate nevertheless. 

Sid shuffled into the toilet, closed and locked the door behind him. Sitting himself down on the seat, he put his head in his hands, breaking into a hailstorm of pitiful tears. 

oOo

Two weeks passed and still Sid received no word. 

At first he was beside himself with worry. Tried everything he could to discover her whereabouts.  
  
To no avail. He fell into a kind of miserable apathy, coping, but alone and lonely.

Then, one morning...a postcard.

From New York.

From Cassie.

Staring at it. Numbed.

Reading the few words it contained. Over and over.

Sitting by himself at the breakfast table.

Mark shuffled in, yawning.

"Morning Sid....you okay, Christ.....you look like you've dropped a tenner and found fifty pence....?" 

Without looking up he passed over the card in silence.

His father perused it at length, turning it over in his hands several times. 

"Fuck!" He breathed. 

"Fuck is right." His son retorted with some venom. 

"You gonna go?" 

Sid raised his head slowly. Frowning his dilemma. Trying to gauge if his dad was in earnest. 

"What....to America....me?" 

"Yeah. Why not? You love her don't you? What's to stop you?"

"I......I......dunno......I get my results next week.....gotta decide what I'm gonna do.....can't just up sticks, leave everything behind......fuck dad......that's huge.....and what will I do for money....a job....a visa or whatever.....I mean.....you can't just rock up there and stay can you?"

Seating himself at the kitchen table opposite, Mark regarded his offspring sympathetically. 

"I can give you some money, tide you over....."

"I don't even fucking know where she is.....could be anywhere.....New York is a bloody big place...." He shrugged off the thought. "......anyway, I can't think about it now.....I'm going camping this weekend with the others....maybe I'll talk to them....see what they think..." 

His dad stood up with finality, moving across to the kettle to make himself a cup of tea.

"Well, let me know what you decide.....just don't shut me out, eh Sid? Talk me son.....okay?" 

"I will dad. I promise." 

 

Rain fell in absolute torrents. 

The humid summer air giving rise to thunderstorms and lightning. 

Marnie drew the curtains to shut it out, returning to join Mark on the sofa, snuggling into his side. 

Mark appeared distracted, deep in thought.

"Penny for them, pet...." She said softly. 

He huffed pointedly. 

"Just thinking about Sid...." 

"Yeah.....out camping in this dreadful weather.....God help him!"

"No. I was thinking more about Cassie really. I think he should go out there.....find her, be with her....he's been like a lost soul ever since she went." 

"Perhaps he will." 

"I think he's scared. Also I don't think he'll leave until Chris's funeral is over and done with." 

"When is it?" 

"Next week. They had to wait for the post mortem. Horrible business." 

"Very sad. The mood at school has been very sombre. Listen, Mark, it's late....you coming to bed?" 

 

They lay together side by side, naked, because they could do that now.......listening to the sound of the pouring rain, the rumbles of distant thunder and the flashes which periodically lit up the room. A hot sticky night. When even the air coming in through the open window gave no relief or coolness. 

Her head resting on his chest, his arm holding her firmly in place. 

"This is cosy." She whispered. "A whole weekend....all to ourselves....." 

She felt a tender kiss pressed into her hair. Felt his arm tug her a little closer. 

"Fucking love it when you can stay here...."

"Me too! Mark....I really think it's time you told Sid about us.....don't you? Keeping me a secret is going to backfire horribly. Even your ex wife knows....." 

"I know. You're right. But there's always been something that stops me....you know....something crops up. Like Cassie's overdose, then her leaving.....Chris's death.....the other week with him at the nightclub.....the time just didn't seem right. It gets harder the more I put it off." 

"It doesn't have to be a big blazing announcement....you can just tell him quietly. When you're alone together....perhaps one Wednesday night." 

Mark sighed. 

"I'll do it this week. I will. Then I'll ask you over.....get him used to the idea.....oh fuck it! I hope he's okay with it all.....I just want it to be alright.....that's all......for you and him to get on.....his mum leaving was such a big deal for him."

"I'm sure he'll be fine with it.....he's matured somewhat now.....and after all that's happened....I think he'll be happy you're happy."

Raising herself up onto one elbow, she placed a little kiss against his lips. 

"Oh God Marn.....you're so special .....love you so fucking much....!" Pulling her into him he returned the kiss with feeling. 

In moments they were tumbling together amongst the sheets. Groans and cries and mutual masturbation.  
Mark had never enjoyed foreplay quite as much as he did with Marnie.  
She seemed to know just which buttons to press to get him going. 

Laying back, helpless as she stroked and sucked him. Light on....watching himself disappear into her willing mouth.  
Fucking wonderful. Concentrating all his efforts on not exploding. Always had to give himself time when she did that....when she did anything to him for that matter.  
Rolling her over and reciprocating, teasing her in return, using his tongue until she cried out for more.  
Hot, sweaty and ready for him to love her. 

"How do you want to do it tonight, lover boy......?" She asked coquettishly, biting her lip, as she fondled him wickedly. 

"Fuck....I want you on top sweetheart.....will you? I love it.....I love seeing you....watching your face.....shit, it turns me on so fucking much...." 

She giggled. Moving to straddle his hips, rocking against him until he moaned with deep arousal. 

"And _I_ love to see the moment when you let go inside me.....because you look so horny and sweet....desperate and vulnerable.....like it means everything." 

"It fucking does darling....trust me."

Entwining their fingers as she lowered herself down onto him with a sigh, rolling her pelvis back and forth, as he lay beneath her in ecstasy, copping an eyeful of her beautiful breasts as she did so. 

Both completely lost in the deeply erotic moment. 

Sex with Marnie was so much more than just the act. 

It was real love. 

An all encompassing union between them. Fulfilling, sensual love making....

.....Mark Jenkins took his time, relishing every marvellous moment.....

 

"DAD! _DAAAAD!"_

Key in the lock. Front door crashing open. Stuff being bundled into the hallway. 

"DAD! YOU IN?? We got washed out......Maxxie's tent blew down.....fucking stupid weather...."

Mark and Marnie stopped dead in mid thrust. 

Both sets of eyes widening, looking at each other in abject horror, as they heard Sid's footsteps stumping purposefully up the stairs.

Frozen. 

Locked together as one. 

_"SHIT!"_

Marnie had only seconds to grab the edge of the sheet and pull it over herself, separating her body from his. 

"OH FUCK!"

Mark, in turn, grabbed a pillow....all that was left, since she'd nabbed the covers. Placing it over is rampant erection.  
It being perfectly obvious that he was completely naked, strongly aroused and most definitely _'in flagrante delicto'._

This was the sight that met Sidney's eyes as he pushed the bedroom door open without heed or knocking. He was speaking buoyantly as he entered the room, quite expecting his dad to be sitting up in bed, reading. As was often the case. 

"I saw your light was still on, glad you're not asleep.....we called it a night, packed up and came home...I'm gonna grab a quick shower, get changed and go over to 'Chelle's......." 

He stopped mid sentence. 

Eyes scanning the scene laid out before him. 

His dad. Flat on his back. Flushed and dishevelled. Nude, but for the strategically placed pillow. 

A woman.....one who looked startlingly familiar.....trying her best to cover her modesty with the corner of the rumpled sheet, most of which Mark was lying on, his weight holding it down. 

Both tousled, both fevered with obvious sexual desire, the very air rank with the scent of it. Her perfectly rounded bottom peeking out in spite of her trying to hide it, kneeling up at his side, where seconds before she'd clearly been shamelessly riding him......

"Sid! I......er....we......we weren't expecting you back....." His father began, guilt ridden, causing Marnie to frown and roll her eyes.  
_Talk about stating the bleedin' obvious!_

Watching Sid's brain taking in the scenario before him.....seeing the recognition hit him as to whom the woman was.......it was actually quite amusing. In fact Mark would have laughed....except he was doing his best to look suitably contrite. 

"Miss _Driscoll_........???" He computed, speaking slowly, as realisation gradually dawned. 

" _SHE'S_ the mystery woman?" A explosion. Utter incomprehension.....rapidly calculating the weeks and months.....thinking back to when they'd spoken in class.....when his dad had been so inexplicably flustered at their first meeting.....it all gradually began to add up.....

"So wait....... _YOU'RE_ who's fucking my Dad? All this time?" 

"Sid.....son.....it's a bit more than that.....we just...."

The young man interrupted. Silencing the father. 

"My dad is fucking my teacher? Oh! This is not possible! But how did you even....? _WHEN_?" 

A pause. A swallow. 

_"ALL THIS FUCKING TIME?"_

"I was going to tell you.....but it just didn't seem to be the right moment somehow....."

Sid's voice was cold. 

"Does Mum know?" 

"Yes."

The eyebrows raised slightly in disbelief. A puff of air exhaled. 

_"SO WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU SEE FIT TO TELL ME?"_

"Probably because I was afraid you'd react like this." Mark replied quietly but with sharpness. 

Sid turned. 

"I gotta get the fuck out of here....." His face was pale. 

Mark dropped a quick kiss onto Marnie's lips. 

"Stay there Marn." 

Scrambling hurriedly from the bed, her errant beau, now somewhat deflated, donned boxers and a T Shirt in double quick time, slamming down the stairs after his crazed and dazed offspring. 

Just in time to bar the front doorway. 

"Let me out....I'm going to 'Chelle's." He spat viciously.

"No! _You're not!_ You're going nowhere till we've talked." 

_"FINE!"_

Planting his feet firmly Sid folded his arms and stood his ground. Glaring angrily at his father. 

"Come into the kitchen.....talk to me properly." His Dad's tone was gentle. Placatory. Yet he seemed to grow taller somehow, imposing, neither was he giving way. 

"Nothing more to be said is there? You've been fucking my psychology teacher......behind my back....I'm disgusted." 

Mark Jenkins lost it. 

_"KITCHEN! NOW!"_

Taking his son firmly by the arm, he frogmarched him, protesting, into the kitchen and plonked him unceremoniously onto a chair. The strength with which he accomplished this shocked even himself. Standing over him. Glowering. Accent taking on heavy Glaswegian torque. 

"You're _WHAT_?" He barked. "You're disgusted are ye? Why you fucking sanctimonious wee hypocrite! How fucking _dare_ you judge me thus? How old am I? Eh? How old? Twelve? Seventeen like you perhaps? _Well_?" 

Sid remained stubbornly silent. 

"Why have you nothing to say? You fuck your girlfriend don't you? You go out binge drinking and take substances which might quite easily kill you.....I don't remember you ever asking _me_ if it's okay.....ye ken? You go off....do as you damn well like.....to hell with the consequences......but not me? I have to ask for your fucking permission? Is that it? I'm not allowed to be with anyone because it might hurt your fucking finer feelings?  
_CHRIST_! Wake up and smell the daisies, sunshine!" 

" _Fuck you_!" Sid yelled in retaliation. "She must be ten years younger than you if she's a day! It's just fucking......fucking......." 

"Fucking _what_? Revolting? Perverted? Cradle snatching? What? Come on....spit it out....." Placing both hands on the table edge, Mark thrust his face close to that of his son.  
"......Oh, and just so you know....not that it's ANY of your damn business.....but she's 36.....so does that come within your vaguely puritanical parameters for what constitutes an acceptable fucking age for a man of 44......?"

Marnie, now dressed rather attractively in Mark's best silk dressing gown, her hair freshly combed, entered the kitchen quietly behind them both.  
Her eyes sharp, steely, and resolutely dry. 

At the sound of her step, Sid looked up, met her eyes, then looked away again. 

" _Stop it._ Both of you." She said sternly, but without raising her voice. 

Mark, who had not heard her enter, almost jumped out of his skin. He'd wanted her to remain upstairs, to protect her from this. Before he could pass any further comment however, she continued... 

"I don't want to come between father and son....." Her voice had a slight tremble, but she was resolute, her school teacher voice to the fore. 

"......but nor will I remain silent. Sid.....you are an adult, not a small child in a pram. So please stop behaving like one." 

A flicker of anger darkened Sid's eyes, but he quailed under the intensity of her glare. 

".......yes, your dad and I have been seeing each other. It's something that neither of us were expecting, and it's not something that happened overnight believe you me.  
I am _not_ some tuppenny whore and I resent being cast as one by you.  
But that is not the issue here. The issue is that whatever you might think of me, you are somehow implying that your father should be ashamed....that he's done something wrong.  
_He hasn't._  
He is a consenting adult. _So am I._ My professional career is not compromised in any way.  
There is nothing inappropriate here....although your Dad _was_ worried, but on _your_ account....not ours....and that was partly what prompted him to remain silent as to the nature of our relationship. For fear that your friends at school might give you a hard time because of it.....and with all that's been going on in your life over the last year we figured to spare you that......so don't make this into something sordid and dirty Sidney. Because nothing could be further from the truth....." 

As she was speaking, Mark moved closer to her, threading an arm around her narrow waist and pulling her into his side. His eyes were irrepressibly sad. Looking pleadingly at his only child. 

"I love her son.......simple as that." He admitted with a shrug, leaning in to kiss Marnie's temple gently. 

Looking from one to the other.......seeing them both together like this.....his Dad......eyes soft and filled with tears of the deepest affection......Marnie in turn, smiling gently up at him, her face radiating with a glow of light, both so happy. A lump came to his throat. 

_"Sorry....."_ The word was said so quietly they almost missed it. Gaze flitting from one to the other of the two of them, holding each other close, in solidarity, then looking back at him for reassurance that it was in fact, okay. 

"......it was just one helluva of a shock, that's all." 

"I know son, and we wanted to tell you......but.....it's my fault. I was afraid. No excuses. I'm an idiot." 

"How long?" 

"Pretty much since you and Cassie went to Elgin." 

"Fucking hell Dad." 

His father looked suitably apologetic.

"It was a surprise to me too Sid.....truthfully. Couldn't imagine what she would possibly see in me.....but....." He paused. "....well, we hit it off somehow. Fuck knows. Can't analyse it. Oh, and we haven't been..... _you know_......all this time, that's only a fairly recent thing." 

Marnie pulled out a chair and sat down opposite the young man, confused and uncomfortable as he was. 

"Sid.....pet, your Dad is a very nice man. A perfect gentleman. He's kind, thoughtful and loving.....given the opportunity. I'm very much in love with him..... "

She glanced up at Mark, reaching for his hand as he stood at her side, giving him a little smile. 

".......I hoped you could be glad for us. More especially for him.....I realise it's difficult for you to accept someone new in your family life. But don't you think your dad deserves some happiness? Life doesn't end when you get divorced, or you lose your partner.....your mum knows that, and she approves of us. In fact she's been very kind. I don't expect you to welcome me with open arms.....but I was hoping that we could at least be friends.....and that you would give us your blessing." 

Pushing his glasses up onto his brow, Sid pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the tears he could feel pricking.  
His father's hand came to rest gently on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. 

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this son......truly.....please forgive me, for not trusting and confiding in you earlier.....I was a coward......it was stupid. But I love you son....please believe that will never change. No matter what happens between me and Marn here." 

"I really am a total arse aren't I? I told you Dad.....I'm useless and crap, I fuck everything up....."

"Stand up Sid....." 

The young man obeyed reluctantly and was immediately engulfed in a hug. 

"You're no more an arse than I am. Don't beat yourself up anymore. It's done. We've all said our piece....let's forget it eh? Life's too fucking short....." 

"Sorry Dad. Sorry Ms.....um.....Marnie. Truly. I'm glad you're with him.....I liked you when you took over from Angie.....I thought you were really nice. And you were great when I fucked up on my assignment. You gave me a chance.....it meant a lot..... _fuck_.....can I go to 'Chelle's now?" 

Releasing him, Mark gave him a playful thump. 

"Get on yer way! Have a good time with your friends. And don't do anything I wouldn't do!" 

"Fuck me Dad.....from what I saw when I walked in on you earlier that gives me plenty of scope!" 

His dad cringed, blushing red, but Marnie exploded into a burst of laughter. 

"Away with you......outa my sight.....ye cheeky wee bugger!"


	13. Epilogue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the funeral, and it's aftermath. 
> 
> Mark comes to a momentous decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This epilogue is very much a 'what happened next'. 
> 
> The opening scenes I've kept more or less completely to canon. Chris's funeral, the campfire afterwards and Sid being dropped at the airport. 
> 
> In the show, of course, these events happen after Marks death, but in this story he is still very much alive! So I didn't feel Sid would just go off without a word. 
> 
> Tony is interesting in this episode because he is almost completely devoid of emotion throughout the funeral and afterwards....and is positively gleeful when he has the idea of stealing the coffin. It is only when he says goodbye to Sid that he is actually very upset. So perhaps there was something that pierced that self absorbed armour of his, after all. 
> 
> The scenes which follow are there to tell the reader what happens to Mark in the months after Sid leaves, which is when we say goodbye to all the characters in the show (except Effy) for good. 
> 
> We only learn in series eight when Cassie is bought back for a final fling, that she travelled for a while in the US with her boyfriend, but they had eventually gone their separate ways. Nothing more is mentioned about Sid.  
> So I've left it open, as the show does, as to what happens to them. The reader can decide for themselves. 
> 
> As for Mark and Marnie, well......read on......

EPISODE THIRTEEN.  
EPILOGUE. 

A grey and gloomy day. 

As a group they stood in the drizzle. Staring down on the 'real mourners' below. 

Excluded. 

It was as if not only was Chris being placed into the ground, but physically taken from them for a second time.  
Although in truth he wasn't really there at all. He was long gone. Just an empty shell, from which the essence had been liberated. 

Chris Miles was free. 

Forever. 

Nothing could touch him now. 

Tony glanced at Sid. Chanced a little smile. Somehow Sid couldn't summon a smile in return. 

He doubted things would ever be the same between them again. 

Together they had recently stolen, then replaced, the coffin. 

A small revisiting of old times. How quickly Tony reverted to his old self given the opportunity. Almost gleefully enjoying the moment.  
For a time Sid was ashamed to say he was right there alongside him. Then he came to his senses.  
What they had done was awful. Criminal. A heinous act. For which the penalty would, no doubt, be serious.  
Tony didn't see it that way.  
"It's our right." He said, by way of vindicating himself. 

But Sid begged to differ. 

Here was a father who had already buried one son. Now he had lost the other. Who were they to say who should attend the funeral and who shouldn't? No matter how aggrieved they felt.  
Sid felt utterly terrible. 

Once again he'd been collared into doing what Tony wanted to do.  
It was almost always the wrong thing and he always felt bad about it afterwards. 

Today was no exception. 

Thank god he'd had the strength of will to make Tony turn around and return it. He was actually surprised at his own fortitude in the matter. So was Tony.  
There had been moments as they tore through the Bristol streets, ripping hell out of the clutch of Mark's Mini, that the old spark was there.  
High fives, camaraderie, danger.....then they headed for a blind crossroads and Tony floored the accelerator, that frisson of excitement when you know you're doing something you shouldn't quickly vanished. 

Jesus Christ.....he could have killed them both. For a momentary reckless high. Idiot! 

It was a brief return to the friendship, the brotherhood they'd once shared. 

But it was hollow somehow. Sid knew it, and he suspected Tony did too. 

Now, here they were. Looking down, as the coffin was lowered into the ground. 

Remembering Chris in their own way. The Chris they knew. Better than any one of those black draped mourners below. More thoroughly than Graham Miles. Or Great Aunt Mabel from fucking Basingstoke. 

He was their best friend.

Jal began to speak. Bravely. Her volume increasing until it almost drowned out the words from the priest. 

_"I've been thinking about what Chris would have wanted me to say today._  
_The advice he'd give me, which'd be something like,_

'Know what, babe? Fuck it. These guys know all about me. Tell them about someone else.'

 _So I thought I'd tell you about a hero of Chris's: a man called Captain Joe Kittinger._  
_In 1960, climbing into a foil balloon, Captain Joe ascended 32 kilometres into the stratosphere. And then, armed only with a parachute, he jumped out. He fell for four minutes and thirty-six seconds, reaching seven hundred and forty miles per hour before opening his parachute five kilometres above the Earth._  
_It had never been done before, and it's never been done since. He did it just because he could. And that's why Chris loved him - because the thing about Chris was, he said yes._  
_He said yes to everything. He loved everyone. And he was the bravest boy - man - I knew. And that was.....he flung himself out of a foil balloon every day. Because he could. Because he was. And that's why - and that's why we....we loved him."_

As the fireworks began to explode behind them, with a series of loud bangs and a roaring fizz, lighting up the sky above the cemetery, they all clasped hands.  
Solidarity. 

"Let's say FUCK IT, for Chris." 

oOo

Gathered around the fire they'd kindled near the picnic area. 

The evening had turned warm and dry. The clouds departed to reveal a clear night, spangled with stars above their heads. A thousand eyes winking down, although none noticed their beauty, being otherwise occupied. 

They crossed the elegant span which was the Clifton Suspension Bridge, heading out of the City, finding a quiet spot on the Leigh Woods Nature Reserve which was bordered on one side by the river Avon.  
It was quiet there, no one around to disturb them. 

Here they lit their small fire. 

Sitting around it's bright blaze on upturned crates. A few bottles to share and a spliff to smoke. 

Slowly the buzz filtered and numbed. Taking the edge off their grief. Filling the void that Chris had left in their lives with forgetfulness.

Sid tore the corner from the _'I love NY'_ postcard that Cassie had sent him. He had carried it around in his pocket all this time. Using it now to make a filter for his smoke. Giving it one last look, he then tossed it into the flames. 

Symbolic. 

He wasn't sure what of......but it was as if casting it away meant he'd never see her again, and he accepted that. 

Taking a long drag he passed the reefer to Michelle who was seated close to him. She gave him a look of sympathy but didn't pass comment. 

Rising now, Tony, who seemed curiously detached from the sorrow they all felt, returned to the car and came back with a felt bag. 

"Results o'clock I think!" He announced. 

It was odd that he seemed able to switch himself off from emotions such as these. As if nothing really touched him.  
Sid reasoned that it was due to his brain injury. Although if he was honest with himself, he knew, deep down, that Tony had always been this way. He could mute things around him when they hit others, shut himself off.......but when it affected him personally, then it mattered.  
Self centred. 

Some might even say, heartless. 

Just occasionally, however, something would hit him most profoundly, then he'd be lost and upset and unable to process the sensation. 

"Well.....come on then." Maxxie said. "Moment of truth...." 

Collecting all their envelopes in the bag. Each then picked one out at random.

"Pick a card.....any card...." 

One by one they were opened. Read aloud. 

"Who've you got Sid?" A second or two of suspense. 

"Tony......three A's and a B.....Cardiff it is then!" 

"Yeah! And if anyone gets me a baa baa fuck sheep, I'll kill 'em."

Raucous laughter. 

Tony and Michelle exchanged a glance, but neither spoke. 

"Who's next?"

Maxxie ripped his envelope. 

"Sidney! B, C, C......." 

"Yay! Sidney boy!" 

Christ! What a relief! Better than he'd expected under the circumstances. 

"Good job!"

Michelle took her turn next. 

"Maxxie.....B, E...." 

"B,E? Be. Not bad. I be. I be." Laughing, he puffed out his smoke. 

"Nice one!"

"Chuck us the bag 'Chelle." Sid took out a second letter. "Jalander." 

Jal's face remained set. Today had been especially tough for her. 

"It'll be fine Jal." Michelle whispered softly. 

"Two A's and a C....."

"Well done Jal...." Her knee was squeezed firmly by her best friend, eliciting a little smile. 

Tony took his envelope. 

"Michelle." Taking his time, as she held her breath. 

"B, A, A." He read. "Well done.."

"Looks like you're off to York!" Maxxie crowed. "Hold on....there's still one left......Anwar...." 

"Where is he?"

"He was here a minute ago." 

Maxxie examined the envelope.

"It's already been opened......" 

Sid laughed. "He'll be fine....he worked really hard...." 

"Two E's and a U......."

Shock waves rippled around the campfire. 

"What the fuck?" 

"But how.....?"

"Let's go find him.....tell him it'll be okay....." 

oOo

It was late now. 

The party had broken up. 

A day of farewells. 

Maxxie had to return home, collect his bags, as he was leaving for London that evening on the night coach. James was travelling along with him.  
It was of some distress to him that he couldn't find Anwar. Very much wanting to say goodbye to his dearest friend. 

Such small things. Those official brown envelopes. But they represented a momentous change. 

The future. 

New beginnings. 

The streets were strangely quiet. As if the City where they'd grown up, knew. Saying goodbye to its own. Some harbinger of impending doom. An apocalyptic explosion of fevered expectation. Another generation about to make their way in the world, leaving the poor City that had cared for and nurtured them, far behind. 

Michelle sat in the back of the mini. Silent. 

Tony, of course, was driving. Sid in the passenger seat. 

"Well!" He puffed. "Here we are back together again. The three of us.....and we've all seen each other naked......which is nice....." 

Michelle frowned, giving an eye roll, shaking her head. 

"Just one question.....where are we going Tone....." 

Reaching forwards to the glove compartment, Tony retrieved an envelope. Handing it over. 

"What's this?" 

"Open it."

Inside was his passport, and an air ticket. Sid turned it over in his hands, brows furrowed. Confused. 

"New York? Why would I want to go to New York?" 

Tony rolled his eyes dramatically. 

" She's thin, she's blonde and she says 'Wow!' a lot...."

"It's over Tone.....me and Cassie are done. You said so yourself."

Swivelling his head he turned to Michelle. 

She shrugged. "Don't look at me!"

"You'll find her. You just will....."

Swinging into the Departures area. Tony parked and the two got out. Michelle remained inside the vehicle.  
This was a goodbye she didn't want to witness. 

Standing outside. 

Facing each other. 

Tony's hands stuffed resolutely into his pockets. 

"Well. This is it." 

"Right. Well. Good luck." 

"Yeah. Thanks for the ticket...."

Tony watched as his oldest and once closest friend picked up his bag, walking away through the revolving doors, without looking back.  
Staring after him, even though he'd disappeared.  
Unable to turn away.  
A tremble running through his body. 

All the grief and emotion of the day so far, had washed right over him, barely leaving a mark.  
But _this_....

.....this was quite different. 

It was an ending. 

Seldom did Tony feel loss. But he felt it now. Deep inside him, as if he would burst apart with it.  
Building up slowly. Threatening to overwhelm him. 

Almost choking as he suddenly saw the familiar figure returning, walking quickly back through the glass portal as if it were some kind of time vortex. 

Standing in front of him once more. 

"Tony....."

"I know......three things Sid.......one......get rid of the hat.....it makes you look retarded...." Grabbing the woollen beanie, he pulled it from his friend's head without ceremony. 

"Two......" Taking both shoulders firmly, he pulled Sid into a crushing hold. Placing the tenderest of kisses against his forehead, as a father might to a child. "......I always loved you the best, Sid." 

"Three......" A pause, both looking at each other, shaking their heads. Tony's lip was quivering, his eyes welling up. "......I can't think of a three." 

The two young men embraced each other as if they were dying. Clinging on for dear life.  
They could have been brothers. Or lovers. 

But it was Tony who appeared the most vulnerable, the weakest, where Sid was strong. 

Deep wracking sobs making his body heave. Face pressed into Sid's coat. 

Not he to pull back first, but his friend. The man he'd always kept dangling on a string, ever ready to do his bidding.  
No more.  
It was over. 

"I gotta go.....I'll miss the flight....." 

Separating himself. Peeling away from the crushing embrace. 

Bending. Picking up his hold-all once again. Backing away. A slight smile of farewell, but not the word itself. 

Sid was gone. 

Finally breaking. Unbridled sobs. Hands in pockets again. Turning, stumbling blindly away. 

The end of an era. 

oOo 

Mark was just dozing off in front of the TV when his phone burst into life. 

Releasing Marnie from his embrace, he sat up sleepily. 

"It's Sid." 

A pause, as he answered, then listened intently. 

"Hi son, you okay?" 

Marnie watched as the string of emotions washed across her lover's face. 

Surprise, confusion, then anguish and pain. 

Glancing at his wrist watch urgently. 

"Well, how long have I got?" 

A hand scraped backwards through his hair, a puff of frustration as he hung up. 

"Mark, pet.....what's the matter?" 

"Sid's at the fucking airport. He's going to the US. Waiting for his flight. Fucks sake......" 

"Are you going down there? Is there time....?" 

"Yeah....he's got an hour or so before he goes to the Gate......Tony bought him the ticket.....gave him a lift there.....in MY fucking car......"

"Well, my car is outside......" 

"Fuck! I'm so fucking.....I dunno.....and what about Liz.....she's his mother for Christ's sake?" 

Standing, he began to pace, hands flapping out his frustration. 

Marnie left her seat, arresting his movement, arms around him, calming his furious exasperation. 

"Stop." Soothingly she caressed his cheek. "Phone Liz. See if she can come with you .....then go down there....you have time......and you both need to say goodbye to him properly. You can take my car." 

"Fucking told that damn Tony not to keep borrowing my car.....he's the only one who's got a bloody licence....and he thinks he can just cajole Sid into letting him use it whenever. Never fucking asks me! He's only insured third party! Apparently he was going to post the keys through the letterbox when he'd finished with it! Cunt!" 

Marnie smiled indulgently, then kissed him sweetly. 

"Your anger is wasting precious moments. Forget it Mark. It's not important right now. Give Liz a ring....then go....." 

She turned him around firmly and began shooing him from the living room. 

"Go!" 

"You're fucking wonderful.....you know that? Fucking wonderful. And I don't deserve you." 

oOo

....... _a fortnight later_.....

Marnie entered the kitchen, to find Mark standing at the sink. 

Up to his elbows in suds, but not actually doing anything. As if he'd been paused. Mid action. 

His eyes stared, unseeing, out of the window, down the garden. 

The small patch of lawn. Flowerbeds. Shed at the bottom. Pallet fencing to either side. 

A dim vision swam before his gaze. As if through a net curtain.....did they have a net curtain on this window back in the day?

Probably. 

A little boy in National Health glasses, wearing cotton shorts and sandals. Propelling himself up and down the path on a red Triang trike, his teddy strapped to the front.

Laughing, talking to himself....or to his ted....as he made up some story in his own head. 

Funny little kid. Solitary. Imaginative. 

Mark gave a little puff.....his shoulders rising, then sinking......so like himself at the same age. 

As he watched the scene faded, the grass becoming carpet, to be replaced by his son's grown up back view, retreating across the transit area leading to the departure gates. 

He didn't look like a man at that moment at all. He looked like that same small boy. 

Lost in his own world.

His words to Sid as he left, echoed in his head. 

_"It's okay to be scared son. Being scared means you're about to do something really brave. Find her. Love her. Travel with her. Most of all.....have fun with her. Me and your mum had fun. That was the whole point of why we were together in the first place. Lay down some happy memories, and even if you end up going your separate ways eventually, enjoy it for what it is.....a great adventure."_

Embracing each other warmly. 

_"Thanks Dad. I'm so glad you came down. Going off without saying goodbye seemed so terrible. I couldn't face it. I love you so much, and I'll miss you........"_ Turning to his mother, who stood to one side.  
_".......and you Mum......thanks for everything. Sorry I'm an idiot."_

_"Oh c'mere, Sid!"_ Tearfully she hugged him. _"Don't forget where we are okay? Just message us from time to time, so we know you're alright. There's money in your account....but for God's sake....if you need more then ask.....okay?"_

No more words. No crying. Just a nod, his head buried into her shoulder. 

Then.....as he walked away from them......Sid observed his parents with their arms linked tight at the elbow, standing close. Waving. Mum's head coming down to rest on dad's shoulder.  
Because no matter what had happened between them, at that moment they were just a Mum and a Dad, and they would always share the fact that he belonged to them......

.....Mark was unaware that tears were snaking down his face. 

His nose was running. 

Blinking now as the daydream blurred and disappeared. Sniffing. 

Bringing his wet rubber gloved hand up to his nose, dabbing beneath it with the dry part at the wrist to quell the flow. 

Arms were threaded around his waist then. Hands clasping over his stomach. 

Sighing, as he felt her warmth pressed against his back. 

"He'll be awlright pet." 

Unable to turn without damping the floor, he leaned back into her comfort. Bowing his head. 

"I fucking miss him like hell." 

"Of course you do. He's your boy. I can't really imagine what that feels like."

She savoured the air appreciatively then. 

"What's cooking? Smells lovely." An effort to lighten the mood, pull him back from the slough of despond.

"Thought I'd have a valiant stab at Shepherd's Pie." 

"Nice." She smiled into his shirt, nuzzling closer. 

"I know Shepherd's is easy, but Liz used to make it extra special.....it was one of my favourites.....so I asked her to tell me what she put in.....to make the gravy so rich.....don't suppose it'll be like hers.... but I thought I'd give it a go. After all.....not much to fuck up in mince and mashed potato....." 

"I'm sure it'll be fine." 

Releasing him, she stood at his side, looking up into his face. 

Red rimmed eyes. Cheeks damp. A dewdrop on the end of his long nose. 

"How was your day love?" He asked then, sniffing again. 

Reaching into her pocket she drew out a tissue, wiping as if he were a small child. Then dabbing at him with a chuckle, trying to mask her concern. 

"It was okay. New school year is always tough. New intake. New curriculum. New staff starting. No one sure what the hell's going on....you know!" 

"Don't know how you do it!" Peeling off the Marigolds, Mark gathered her into him. 

Her face pressed to his chest, his large hand cradling her head. Chin resting on her hair. A little kiss placed on top of her head. 

She let out a groan of pleasure. 

"Mmmm. This is a nice welcome to come home to. A cuddle....and dinner! How did I survive all this time without this?" 

"Glad you agreed to come over....on a school night...." 

"Can't seem to stay away somehow...."

He clasped her tighter. 

"I love it when you're here, the place seems brighter, lived in.....you know? When it's just me, well....I dunno, I feel like a dried pea in a tin. Rattling round. I was thinking the other day....I might sell this place." 

Leaning back, she regarded him with surprise. Eyebrows raised. 

"Really? This is a little sudden isn't it?" 

He shrugged. 

"Not really. When Liz and I split I thought I'd have to sell anyway, to give her her settlement. It's only because Sid was staying with me and this is his home that Liz didn't pursue it.......now he's not here....well, things are different. I must face it.....Sid's never going to come back on a permanent basis. Nothing will ever be the same again. I look about me and everything is a memory......every stick of furniture, every ornament. Each piece of crockery, the wallpaper, the pictures.....all little reminders of the past." 

"And that's painful to you?" She was still looking up into his face, her eyes soft and kind.

"Not painful exactly, but it's almost like living in a museum dedicated to my marriage. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, I do pet. It's no different from the flat I shared with Joe. After a while it was slowly suffocating me, and preventing me from moving on. Like I was clinging to something that was gone. It's the reason I sold up and came to live here. So yes.....I do understand. Perfectly."

"The house is too big for one anyway. If I bought something smaller.....perhaps with a wee spare room, for when Sid comes to stay.....if he wants to come and stay that is......well, I'd have a bit of money behind me....you know....to do.... _stuff_.  
I have a fancy for a nice little place somewhere a bit out of town. Nothing grand, but not pokey. A bit of garden. I dunno......what do you think?" 

"I think it sounds grand pet. You could buy some new furniture.....pieces you've chosen yourself....surround yourself with different interiors, new colours, something light, and bright.....cheery......it'd be a proper new start.....and I think it'd make you feel better." 

Releasing her from his arms, she backed away slightly. Moving to the fridge. Returning with wine and two glasses. 

"Drinking? But it's Tuesday......" His eyes had a little mischievous twinkle. 

"Don't give a stuff!" Pouring two measures, she handed one over. 

They clinked glasses and sipped. 

A nod of appreciation. 

"To new beginnings!" 

"I'll drink to that!" 

oOo

...... _several months later_.......

Spring sunshine streamed in through the open back door. 

From the garden came angry cries and shouts. 

Marnie leaned against the back doorpost, nonchalantly cradling a cup of tea. Watching. Amused. 

_"FOR FUCK'S SAKE! WHAT IS THIS THING?"_

Mark......wearing shorts......and flip flops......his pasty white knees and legs on display. 

Grappling with the lawn mower. 

It was one of those petrol machines which has a cord pull starter.....the knack being simply to pull the cord! 

One strong tug and the mower should start, then away you go! 

Mark ripped at the thing over and over again. Almost dislocating his shoulder. Swearing the whole time. 

'Putt, putt, putt'. A hopeful triumphant cheer.....then it would die on him. 

At the umpteenth attempt....

 _"CUNT!"_

Kicking it viciously. Then yelling as he stubbed his big toe. 

Glancing up then, aware that he was being observed.

Just a look of desperation, exasperation, defeat. 

Marnie joined him, handing him her cup. 

"Let me try." 

"It won't go....think there's some fault with the mechanism...."

Taking the red plastic handle firmly, Marnie gave a single sharp tug. 

The mower burst into life. 

Chugging away merrily. 

Mark threw up his hands in surrender. 

" OH!.... _Fuck you!_ " He cried, more to the mower than to her. 

"I'll go finish my decorating!" She giggled, relieving him of her mug and strolling back indoors....

 

A traditional stone house. 

It looked like the kind of home a child might imagine in a drawing. Standing on its own in a small plot, a central front door painted blue, with four mullioned windows, two up, two down.  
On one side of the roof a squat chimney with terracotta chimney pots. 

Situated perfectly in the Chew valley, seven miles out of town, to the south of the city but on the main train line....less than a fifteen minute commute. 

Small and neat, clematis growing on trellis around the front door. 

A little garden at the back, which was overgrown.... hence the need for a good mower! 

An elderly lady had lived alone there. Nothing much done to the place for some while.  
But that all added to its quirky charm. 

On the back a large extension had been built in the same grey limestone, giving a lovely open plan kitchen and dining area.  
The old scullery had been divided, converted into a utility, downstairs loo and a small study.  
Big inglenook fireplace in the living room. Oak mantle. Beams everywhere.  
Upstairs, two nice bedrooms and a bathroom, the windows of which all looked out over the fields towards the river. 

Mark Jenkins was immensely pleased with it. 

All it needed was a lick of paint, a few alterations and minor modernisations here and there.....

.....and perhaps a woman's touch......

Marnie, in an old pair of jeans and trainers, with a paisley scarf tied around her head, was busily painting with a roller. 

Partially unpacked boxes were strewn everywhere. A muddle.....but a happy one.

He wasn't sure how he'd plucked up the courage to ask her........

 

His old place in Bristol had been on the market a week or two, he'd been to look at a couple of new properties.  
Depression then hit him hard. With a suddenness that left him reeling.

The thought of living alone. 

It scared him so. 

Being solitary wasn't him at all. 

Beginning the process of boxing up his stuff had been exquisitely painful. So many memories he'd kept locked away, brought suddenly to the fore......

 

Coming in from the garden in search of a cold drink, he toed off the flip flops, entering the sunny kitchen. 

Found himself smiling stupidly.

A jug of orange squash with ice cubes in sat ready on the drainer. 

In the centre of his brand new table was a vase filled with yellow daisies. A scented candle burned on the side to rid the room of the 'unlived in' smell it had when they moved in.  
The latest photo of Sid and Cassie, taken at The Grand Canyon, on their travels around the States, placed prominently on the shelf, next to a selfie of himself and Marnie, snapped on a recent weekend in Bath. 

Looking at his own face in the snap, he thought he appeared dazed. Bewildered with happiness. 

He followed the sound of her into the living room, where he discovered her perched up on the step ladder, balanced gracefully on tiptoe, reaching over, with one leg held outwards as a counterweight.  
Humming tunefully to herself as she worked industriously. 

All the windows were thrown open, letting in the sweet warm air.....

 

There had been no rhyme or reason behind the method of her unpacking. Each box had been meticulously labelled in black sharpie.  
Her delight at opening each one was infectious, like a pirate opening a treasure chest. It never ceased to amaze him, how she found joy in such ordinary, mundane things. 

The daily essentials like the kettle and cups, glasses, plates and groceries etc were brought out first. Followed by the bed linen. 

"I'll make the bed up first thing.....then when we're knackered we can just fall into it without having to hunt for the duvet and stuff before hand!" She explained, with a cheery smile.....

 

Turning on hearing his step. The look she gave him made his heart leap in his chest. 

"All done?" She beamed. 

"Yep. And I didn't cut my own toes off!" 

Her laughter rang around the empty room. 

Holding his arms out to her in invitation. 

_"Marn....?"_

Climbing down she came to him. 

Eyes shining. Her own arms outstretched in return, the roller still in her left hand. Paint spatters on her face like pale grey _'chalkdust'_ freckles. 

"You okay, pet?" 

He pulled her close to him. 

"Trying to get my head around what's happened." 

"Accept it. We're here. Our new home......together......" 

He glanced around the room, eyes watering slightly. 

"It's looking great."

"Told you the colour was just right." Her eyes were searching his, bringing her own arms around him as far as the paint roller would allow. Their noses almost touching. 

"Still sure you've done the right thing darling?" 

There was doubt there. Nagging away. She could clearly see it. She gave a dismissive tut, shaking her head with a sigh of frustration. 

"Mark......don't......" She whispered, touching his lips gently with her own. "......we've been over this......"

His eyes immediately fluttered shut, a little puff, shoulders relaxing. 

"Sorry! Still can't quite believe you said yes." 

"How could I refuse? I love you.....why would I not want to live with you?" 

A shrug. 

"Dunno.....was worried it was too soon....." 

"We've been together a year now.....longer in fact......time enough, pet." 

Nodding in acceptance, bringing his head down until it rested against her neck. Murmuring into the warm softness of her skin, just below her ear. 

"Love you so much Marn. This place.....it's just so.....so......fuck, I dunno. A dream. I just love it. And you're making it so beautiful, so homely.....you're amazing." 

The look they shared was heavy with intimation, both glancing away to hide their own private blush. 

Bashful with each other, as if being here in what was now their home, made everything somehow different.  
More permanent. Real commitment. 

It was all so different second time around. 

When he and Liz had been young and carefree, they'd jumped into it all with the gusto that only youth could give.  
Without a thought. So sure of themselves. 

This time there seemed so much at stake. For both of them. 

So many worries, so many doubts. 

Learning to trust their own instincts, where before they wouldn't even have given a rat's arse. 

Coming to terms with the fact that they were undeniably a proper couple. Letting go of the past. 

Loving again. 

It was working. 

They had truly found each other. 

This time it wasn't the reckless abandoned love they'd had with their previous partners in the beginning. Their relationship was more measured. Sensible. Grown up. Deeper and more profound. 

Mark raised his head, sniffing slightly. 

"You've got green feet." She giggled, looking down at his bare toes. 

"You've got paint freckles." He responded, with a shy smile. 

"Well, I'm all done here.....so how about a nice relaxing bath.....or a shower....?" 

"What? _Together_?" His eyes widened. Feeling definite stirrings between his legs. 

"Yes! Together......why do you look so scandalised.....?"

Coquettishly she took his hand. Laying down the roller and leading him, unprotesting, up the stairs. 

"C'mon!" She winked. "You'll enjoy it." 

 

......Mark reclined gratefully in the warm water, relief for his aching muscles, leaning back against the rounded end, in the big old fashioned cast iron enamelled bath.  
His knees bent, legs apart, Marnie seated between them. Resting back against his chest with a sigh. 

Both his arms were wrapped snuggly across her front, as she braced herself with her feet against the bottom end beneath the taps. 

Mark Jenkins was extremely turned on. 

How could he not be? 

A wet, naked, beautiful woman, lying with her body pressed against his manhood. He couldn't think of anything more erotic. 

Marnie however, closed her eyes. Sinking down. Letting go. Drifting. 

Relieved that she'd made this huge step and that she now felt more and more certain it was right. 

Being embraced like this made her feel so safe. It was that very security she needed and which Mark seemed to offer naturally, without conscious thought.  
She wasn't sure if he really knew or realised it. She suspected he didn't. But it was there nevertheless.  
Beneath her spine she could feel the comforting rise and fall of his ribs as he breathed in and out.  
Aware that he was hard, and that it was all for her. 

Content to let him be for the time being. 

She knew him better now. Worked out what made him tick. He was quite a simple, uncomplicated soul really.  
Didn't expect much from life. 

But he didn't thrive on his own. Needed someone at his side, someone to share with, a companion that he could give to.  
If he received something in return....well, it was a bonus. 

Coming to trust him implicitly, that had proved the most important thing for her. 

The heat of the water seemed to soothe away her aches and pains. Moving house was hard work, and quite stressful. Lots of humping stuff about, moving furniture, cleaning and painting.  
She was tired, but happy tired. 

It had all been a whirlwind somehow. 

She never expected him to ask her. Thinking he didn't possess the courage or the conviction. 

But he did. 

One evening as they sat together after supper. It came out. Just like that.

_"Marn? Would you consider moving in when my new place goes through.......coming to live with me?"_

Mind wandering back to their first awkward meeting in the classroom, then forwards to the now. 

A sigh of contentment left her. 

He stirred behind her, making sloshing waves, shifting himself, leaning forwards so he could see more of her face. 

"Happy?" He asked thickly, tightening his grip slightly. 

"Very." She replied. 

"I've never done this before." The admission amazed her.....twenty odd years of marriage and never taken a bath with his missus? How was that even chuffing possible? 

"A pleasant new sensation then....." Settling back an inch further so that she rubbed against that part of him just a little more. 

She heard him give a little hiss. 

"I was never much of a one for bath time as a kid......Sandy used to come in and duck my head under....or turn the cold tap on......" his voice was far away, as if casting his mind back, cracked and strained with emotion. 

"I promise I won't ever do anything horrible like that." 

"Marn...?" 

"Yes, pet?" 

"My cock's _really_ fucking hard...." 

"I had noticed....what would you like to do about it?" 

"Can I take you to bed? I really, really want to....."

"Lucky I made it up earlier then wasn't it?!"

"Lucky....." he replied wistfully. 

"Let's go christen it then....." 

Pulling forwards she levered herself up and stepped out of the tub. Sleek and glistening. Wrapping a towel around her body, tucking it under her armpits. He watched avidly, taking in the glorious sight of her as she seemed to hover fragrantly above him.  
Turning to lean over him as he lay there, she captured his mouth in a searing kiss. 

"Our first time in our brand new bed.....in our new home....." She purred hotly.....crooking a finger for him to follow her. 

He looked initially startled, then guilty. 

"I'd best scrub the soles of my feet first." He said apologetically, examining the grass stains with some dismay. 

"Well, better do it quickly then, eh pet...."

Disappearing into the bedroom with a little flirty look back over her shoulder, which made his prick jump with anticipation. 

Never did a man wash himself as rapidly as Mark did on that occasion. 

In a very few moments he was at her side, sliding beneath the cool clean sheets. 

A vision. 

She lay, only partially covered, looking for all the world like a figure in an Italian Renaissance painting.  
Slightly on one side. One arm draped lazily on the pillow above her head, the other resting provocatively across her hip. 

Aphrodite perhaps......

......or Venus......by Titian. 

Eyes languidly looking up at him, mouth open very slightly, that little welcoming smile. Her damp hair laying in curled tendrils against the pale skin of her shoulders. 

Shapely, womanly form. 

Every curve yielding to his touch. The places he loved to caress or kiss her. The valley between her breasts, the hollow cleft where her collar bones met beneath her throat.  
Relishing the way she moved and sighed as his fingers grazed a pink nipple or her inner thigh. 

"Fuck....you're so lovely." He murmured. "I'll never get tired of loving you......you're _everything_ to me....."

Learning that every inch of her body hid a secret of its own, discovering that secret, using it to give pleasure, and in so doing, derive pleasure of his own. 

In turn, Marnie garnered a careful knowledge of him. Experimenting. Uncovering the depths to his desire which she then opened up, awakening him bit by bit.  
Peeling back the layers one by one. Removing his armour, taking her time. Slowly she gained insight into his inhibitions, the deep seated shyness he possessed. Easing his fears about himself and his body image.  
Freeing his soul and soothing his mind.  
Filling that void which for so long had been a dark and bottomless pit, before she ripped the lid off him completely, surrendering himself to her and to the lasting strength of her love. 

His fingers were exploring her now, touching her deep, until she burned like fire. 

Needed him near, needed to smell, to taste him. One hand flat against his chest. To feel the thud of his pounding heart as he positioned himself over her. 

It was real. He was real. 

Lips did not wage war against lips. There was no battle here. Just a soft and tender connection. 

He understood her more thoroughly now. Through trial and error. 

Sexually he now knew instinctively what she wanted. It was all about pleasing her. The build up almost as important as the act itself. 

That intense moment of penetration. The sound she made as he slid inside. 

When they both felt as if the whole of the rest of the world faded away.  
Just him, and her, and the feel of him as he entered her body. 

"Oh God.... _Mark_....." 

He quite stole her breath away. 

Moving easily within her now as she rose to meet him with each forward thrust. 

Always slow, always sensual. Never rough or aggressive. 

Eliciting desperate moans from her, her hands clutching at him, travelling down his spine to his backside. 

There was such restrained power to be felt there, tensile strength, his own innate maleness, muscle rippling beneath her fingers as he moved within her. The scent of their mutual arousal almost overwhelming.

Opening her eyes momentarily she could see every line of taut sinew in his neck, strained like whipcord, starting under his chin and running down to his clavicles. Each one clearly defined beneath the skin of his reddened throat.  
Damp and flushed with a sheen of perspiration, shining, almost as if he'd been polished.  
He began placing feverish kisses on any part within his reach....her lips, ears, neck.  
His own eyes were tightly closed, screwed shut with the effort, breath coming sharp in her ear as he concentrated. Trying his best to hold off. Completely lost in sensation. Oblivious to all else, except the way she felt under him, the way _he_ felt to be allowed inside her.  
Inexorably closing in on that seminal moment. Chasing it. 

Almost there. 

His little cry on release was almost triumphant, as he was aware of her beginning to shudder against him, thighs trembling around his hips. 

"I love you..." She whispered hoarsely, barely able to speak but eager to tell him those precious words, which she knew he craved to hear......

.....long after it was over the high remained. Soaked into their skin. Floating through their dreams as they dozed together. Silently smouldering, like the glowing embers of a fire, delicious remembrances for hours afterwards. 

The ache of love. 

Keeping each other close. 

A post-coital reverie, lulling them into blessed sleep. 

Contented. 

 

All the many battle scars and wounds from their pasts were still there, etched forever, each one could be traced as an outline, not on the skin as a physical mark might be, but inside, through the semi-porous layer, right to the very heart.  
But it didn't matter. 

Not anymore. 

The cruel barbs and arrows would still find their mark occasionally; piercing, stinging, hurting them......after all, human skin is so delicate.....tissue paper thin. 

At that moment, however, nothing could touch them. 

The pain of all the things that had happened to them in their previous lives was pushed aside. When, as they occasionally did, those thoughts filtered through, they could be dealt with. 

Because they had each other. 

It was unlikely that either would harden or change significantly. Become immune. Such was not their way.  
Life's blows would continue to hit home in times of trouble. Some days would undoubtedly be shit, leaving them reeling, things would inevitably be sent to try them.  
Hatred and selfishness still reared their ugly heads on occasions, causing burning anger or aching pain.  
People around, or they themselves, could easily spark feelings of grief, guilt, or anxiety. 

Mark Jenkins was still quite likely to expound a rant from time to time, going off the deep end. 

Just as Marnie might sometimes fall into the trap of trying to be a little too bossy or controlling..... seeking to organise someone who neither asked for it nor needed it.

But that was life.

No one person is ever perfect. 

At the end of the day, if they so chose, they could close their blue front door on the world. 

Enter their own private sanctum sanctorum. 

Hold each other, lay together just as they were now, in a comforting embrace.......and forget.  
Just for a while. 

Let it go. 

Frail, vulnerable humans. 

Still loving deeply in spite of it all. Trusting in each other. Learning more as the years passed. 

How to apply healing balm to their Thin Skins. 

 

Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the final chapter of this story. 
> 
> As ever I am so grateful to all those who have sent comments. It can never be emphasised enough how much they mean. It's not only encouraging but it's a lift which lasts the whole day. It makes you feel as if, even if only in a small way, you've given someone some enjoyment, and you can't put a price on that! Believe me. 
> 
> Thank you all so much. Xxxx


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